


Daughter of the Magic

by Phantom_Queen



Series: A Game of Magic [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Politics, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Eventual Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Expanded Wizarding World, Family Secrets, Female Harry Potter, Future Romance, Gen, Ghosts, Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter), Pureblood Politics (Harry Potter), Slytherin Harry Potter, Violence, Wizarding World (Harry Potter), light and dark magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:07:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 32,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25961830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phantom_Queen/pseuds/Phantom_Queen
Summary: A butterfly flaps its wings somewhere and the wind changes. The weaves of fate shift and a new web is woven as Voldemort has more than one plan to conquer the Wizarding World resulting in far reaching unforeseen consequences. Years later Holly Potter unearths a family secret that sets her on a path that will change everything, as she learns there is no escaping fate when fate is the beat of war drums. So begins a ruthless game of politics and intrigue, magic and betrayal, and the prize more terrible than imagined.
Relationships: Harry Potter & Tom Riddle
Series: A Game of Magic [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1884337
Comments: 44
Kudos: 168





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N:- I started a couple of stories a few years ago, Daughter of the Blood and A Song of Death and Magic, which I have recently taken down. I stopped writing the stories when I was first diagnosed with my medical condition and when I was finally in a position to return to them I had lost the voice and feel for the particular stories, however I still wanted to write them I wasn't just sure how. This story Daughter of the Magic is a rewrite of the stories I wanted to tell by combing them. The themes, and ideas and overall goal is still the same but the execution of the story has changed a lot. For those of you have read my previous work I hope you are able to enjoy this new version of those stories, and for those who are coming to it new I hope you enjoy it.  
> This story is AU and will have a female Harry and even following the line of a possible another Boy-Who-Lived element as well. Whether it is the wrong one or not will be revealed over time. I quite like WBWL stories so long as they are written well. There will be many elements that I am exploring, some of them perhaps considered a little cliché but I hope you still give them a chance.  
> This story will have a spin of Brian Lumley's Necroscope series, and while it will contain some crossover elements it doesn't properly fall into a crossover story as I hopefully do something a little different. It will also have a take of 'Man in a High Castle' by Phillip K. Dick and The Black Jewels Trilogy by Anne Bishop. You don't have to read any of the series as things will be explained over time and while it will have a spin in a Harry world, it won't be exactly the same.  
> Another story that has influenced this story is called Keogh by ChelleyBean - its Hermione centric and is the only other story I have come across that uses Brian Lumley's works. Along with other WBWL stories I have read over the years. Other inspiration has been taken from mythology, Game of Thrones, Sarah J Maas, Ilona Andrews, Merlin, Maria V Snyder, Jay Kristoff - and many, many others. 
> 
> Warnings:- I am rating this story mature for violence and horror elements, language and dark elements that can be found in the story though at this stage nothing will be explicit. (The rating may change as the story progresses) and tags will be added as the story develops. There will be romance in the future and until then it won't be anything more than teenage crushes as they may or may not develop. Until at least fifth year if not later. This will be a Female Harry/Tom Riddle Romance in the future. But for the moment romance will not be focused in this story.
> 
> My plan at the moment is to split this story into three parts:- 
> 
> Part 1:- covering years 1-2.  
> Part 2:- covering years 3-5  
> Part 3:- covering years 6-7 and possible beyond. 
> 
> Disclaimer:- I don't own anything, J.K Rowling owns Harry Potter along with Warner Brothers owning what rights they own and Necroscope belongs to Brian Lumley, Phillip. K Dick and Anne Bishop. I am just using their playground. 
> 
> Any mistakes are mine and mine alone.

**Chapter 1:-**

The first thing one noticed about Privet Drive was how unremarkable the street was. Uniformed houses on either side of the road with neatly trimmed lawns and lush flower beds and shining brass door numbers, and not a single thing that represented uniqueness or different.

_Dull, ordinary, unremarkable._

Minerva shuddered at the thought as she walked up the street towards the house, carefully checking the letter in her hand that she had the right number. She had barely had a minute to breathe between term ending and needing to get the letters out for the new school year. Already she was mentally checking the names of the students that she had enrolled into the Summer School program that the Ministry now demanded all those Muggle-raised attend, ensuring she hadn't missed anyone. With only a few days to spare before it was due to start, she was cutting it fine with her final home visit. Even so, she should have had the number for the house memorised, after all, Minerva was no stranger to the Muggle world, her position giving her plenty of opportunities to interact with the families of the muggle-born students. Minerva had lost count at the number of young witches and wizards she had introduced to magic over the years. But never in all her years had she been around somewhere where everything was of such a regiment design and that included the time where she visited _Catterick Garrison_. The world was pale without the shine of magic that marked Hogwarts and Diagon Alley and other magical areas. There was an extra depth to the colours, hum to the sounds and buzz of life as magic pulsed within that Privet Drive didn’t have. Perhaps she was too harsh, seeing the outside shell and not seeing the inner beauty. But one thing Minerva was sure of was that it was incredibly hard to imagine a young witch living somewhere so unremarkable and being happy, free or relaxed.

But then she would reserve judgement for the time being until she met Holly Potter. 

Minerva raised her hand to knock on the door, absently wondering just what she would find on the other side. The door opened almost at once. The girl was a skinny little thing. _You're being unkind_ , Minerva corrected herself; but she was small for her age, too small if she was being honest and she couldn’t ignore that. Minerva found her voice had deserted her. She could only stare. She looked like James, with that unruly black hair that seemed to kink itself into natural waves at a longer length, but it was her eyes that made her heart jump into her throat. Her eyes were the same shade of Lily's as Minerva had last seen them. They looked older, though. Older than a child should have. 

"Can I help you?"

She wasn't rude. But her voice held a note of indifference to it, stating she didn't really care one way or the other and she was only asking because that was what one was supposed to do. 

Minerva couldn't help but wonder what kind of life the girl had had. Old anger and doubts made her voice probably sharper than it should have been, deep down she knew it wasn't the girl's fault. _Merlin_ knew she had received the short end of the stick when push came to shove in the whole affair. Everything had worked out so unfairly. But then life was prone to do that, no matter how loudly one cursed at the injustice of such things.

"My name is Professor McGonagall, Deputy Head Mistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As your family are already aware of our world, you probably know all about magic. Still, as you have grown up in a Muggle family, it is required you receive a home visit and introduction to the Wizarding World, along with an appropriate guide to Diagon Alley."

The girl stared at her blankly, her face void of any emotion, that would indicate what she was thinking. It was a look that it seemed she had perfected to a fine art. 

_Or not._

Her lips twitched into a grin, and for a split moment, she was taken back to James when he had just pulled a prank, or found something funny or was playing Quidditch. Minerva noted the grin didn't quite reach her eyes, and the coldness was still there burning away accusingly at her. 

It was unnerving. 

"Oh, they are going to love you," the girl stated, and despite the grin, there was nothing humorous about her statement. Just a declaration that made Minerva frown. As much as she looked like her father, with her mother's eyes, James hadn't had the wary cold gaze; neither had Lily come to think about it. Or the pale skin. 

Minerva swallowed the lump that was forming in her throat. Her instincts in dealing with children kicking in, something was wrong here. She couldn't quite place her finger on it. 

"I suppose your aunt and uncle explained everything to you?" Minerva voiced it as a question, not expecting an answer. 

The girl snorted, "Explained what exactly."

It wasn't a question more a statement. As Holly - and she must be Holly, although so unlike how she had ever imagined a child of Lily and James to be - turned and stared back into the house with a look that could Minerva could only describe as unsurprised. Minerva stared at the girl; her parents would be outraged at such a thought, Holly, seemed disinterested in the discovery that they had kept something from her and equally unsurprised in the realisation that they _were_ keeping something from her. Minerva raised her wand just as a large man charged in from another room. Minerva warned herself to be careful; she didn't want to give him a heart attack. 

But then the man roared at Holly, "Who is this?" his gaze went to Minerva's robes before he straightened up and yelled, "FREAK!"

Minerva winced inwardly, pushed down the urge to curse him into oblivion or change him into the walrus he already looked like and waved her wand at an ugly patterned vase standing on a shelf instead. The vase shimmered and warped and struggled for a moment visibly vibrating before shifting, rippling and swirling until a black raven perched on the shelf, feathers ruffling as wings stretched out. The man shut up quicker than Minerva thought possible, and she couldn't help but smile. She found that a bit of unexpected magic was almost always efficient at doing that. Minerva glanced down at Holly, who was watching with amusement. Minerva frowned, that was hardly the response she had been expecting. Yes, the girl didn't look frightened, which is what she was half expecting due to her apparent total ignorance about things that should have been her rightful heritage. But amusement was not it. Though the closer Minerva looked, the more she could see it wasn't just amusement. It was understanding dawning in those green eyes. Something clicking into place and glee was beginning to shine through brightly.

It was the first warming emotion she had seen cross those emerald green eyes since she had knocked on the door. 

"Now, as I was explaining to your niece, I am Professor Minerva McGonagall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and I have come to give Holly her acceptance letter and take her to Diagon Alley, considering her unusual circumstances. However it appears I clearly must explain magic to her, the war and who her parents are."

"She will not be going," a woman stated. Minerva turned to see an incredibly thin woman, with a long neck standing behind the man. She had known Lily had a sister, but no resemblance was visible between the two women.

"We swore when we took her in; we'd put a stop to that rubbish, that freaky.... aberration," The woman continued, her words dripping with bitterness. 

Minerva found that her voice had failed her once again. But rather than shock causing her silence, anger silently flared to life inside of her. How dare the vile woman.

She dared a glance at Holly. 

The girl's face had smoothed over to disinterest again, though there was a hardness in those green eyes that were like ice. Minerva could almost feel the cold and magic radiating from her. 

"You knew!" the girl stated, her tone was calm. Too calm under the circumstances if truth be told.

Lily's sister flinched visibly at the statement. Before she turned to face her niece, "Knew," the woman sniped, "How could you not be, my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got her letter just like that and disappeared off to that - that school - and came home every holiday with her pockets full of frog-spawn, turning teacups into rats. I was the only one who saw her for what she was - a freak!"

The woman only paused for air, before swiftly carrying on with venom lacing every word. She was intending to hurt, knew precisely where to land the blows as if she had prepared for this for the last ten years. Minerva waved her wand, non-verbally casting the Silencing Charm. The woman opened her mouth multiple times, but no sound came out. A look of fear twisted her face as panic flickered in her eyes. She could see her almost beginning to silently gasp for air as she attempted to make some form of sound. 

"I think we have heard quite enough from you," she said firmly, throwing her a look she had used over the years with students incapable of behaving _if you are going to act like a child, I will treat you like one._

"I will be taking your niece to buy her school things now. She will not be returning until this evening where I will be accompanying her."

She looked at Holly, who turned her gaze to meet her own. She could see the anger swirling behind them, along with amusement and joy. The girl gave a small smile, and Minerva could perhaps find it in herself to forgive herself for stooping to their level as she returned it with one of her own.

* * *

* * *

Holly sat opposite Professor McGonagall, back straight and unmoving. Having learnt long ago that _‘little girls should be seen and not heard and it was preferable if she weren’t seen either’_ she had learnt to sit still. Determined not to draw attention to herself, learnt to move unseen. But just because her body was still didn't mean her thoughts weren't spinning, though Holly made sure her face was as blank as she could make it. When she had awoken earlier that morning, Holly had not anticipated her day going from ordinary to extraordinary quicker than…waving a wand. 

But it had done just that, and she wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it. 

Holly had always known she was different and not merely because her family told her every day. Despite what a great many thought she wasn’t unintelligent, just incredibly good at ensuring not drawing attention her way. Holly always made sure she was a point or two under Dudley, despite knowing the answers on school tests. Holly _knew_ she was responsible for all the strange things that happened around her, and then there were the cold spots, in the back of her mind that made her shiver and the hair on her arms stand to attention. Holly could almost swear she could hear voices though they sounded far too distant her to make out. As if she was missing something without really realising what she was missing. Holly had never been able to find out what it was she did or understand how she made such strange things happen.

_Until now._

Magic though explained everything.

Explained why she was different. It didn't seem possible, and yet Professor McGonagall had turned a vase into a bird and had managed to silence her aunt half-way through her rant. Something Holly hadn't thought possible before. The fact they had known was of little surprise to her. It explained why they disliked her so much, why they were afraid. She didn't fit into their ordinary view of the world or the neat and boring box they tried to shoehorn her into every day.

She was a freak an _aberration_ as her aunt liked to throw around more often or not. 

Holly had come to the conclusion she much preferred it that way, better to be an aberration than anything like her family. 

She observed Professor McGonagall silently behind the rim of her goblet as she sipped her pumpkin juice. She wasn't sure she liked it, but it was her first official taste of the magical world so Holly was determined she would enjoy it regardless of whether she would ever have it again. Professor McGonagall wore a dark forest green robe, and her black hair tied neatly up in a bun. She had a stern face, but her eyes held warmth in them Holly rarely saw in adults. At least not directed at her. Holly got the impression she was not a person she wanted to cross, and it was clear she did not tolerate fools. 

"I am certain you have questions," Professor McGonagall said softly. Despite the noise of the pub, Holly could still hear her. 

_Too many_ , she silently agreed. 

"Why can't I do magic as you can?"

A small smile crept across the woman's lips. "Because you don't have a wand or the right training. Everyone needs to learn, magic is an innate ability Miss Potter, but it is one that must be honed, nourished and allowed to grow. Hogwarts gives you that training, that skill to perform magic as I did, and more besides. Children without training have incidents known as accidental magic."

"I turned my teacher's hair blue, and I can make toys move. And I brought dustbins to life, they tried to eat one of the boys from school though," Holly admitted, choosing to mention only a few incidents that had happened. "How long? How long will it be able to take me to do what you did?"

There was a glint of amusement in the Professor's eyes as she responded, "One might say all your life, you can learn something new every day, but officially your time at Hogwarts last seven years. Certain professions require more training certainly, but a standard education is seven years."

"Seven years and I will be able to turn vases into animals?" Holly quizzed, as she took another sip of her juice.

"That altogether depends on you; Transfiguration is a complex art and one not easily mastered. If you work at it then yes, you will be able to turn vases into animals. But like all things you must work at it," she paused, holding her gaze firmly, "though I should warn you, you are not to perform magic in front of muggles. There are strict laws we must abide by, your aunt and uncle are an unusual case as they already knew about magic."

Holly tilted her head slightly, before nodding once. She could understand that at least. It was logical. 

"You mentioned my parents, a war. What happened?" she asked, absently gnawing at her bottom lip, before stopping herself. 

Professor McGonagall sighed softly, her eyes looking at her with an emotion that wasn't quite pity or sadness, but more an understanding. 

"There was a war that began when your parents were still young and in school," Professor McGonagall said at last. "There was a Dark Lord - a particularly vicious wizard who believed it his right to rule us. He gathered to him those who believed in his ideals, his vision, and his dream. They felt they were superior to all other wizards and witches. According to him, muggles or muggle-borns -"

"What are they?" Holly asked, without thinking.

Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow at her, but didn't rebuke her for interrupting; instead, she patiently answered the question, "Witches or wizards who have non-magical parents."

"Like my mum?"

"Yes, like your mum. Some wizards and witches feel that those who come from a muggle family are unworthy of magic. Those who are less than pure than those who come from a magical family with ancestors going as far back as they wish to claim. It was them who made up a large percentage of this Dark Lord's followers."

"Why?"

"That is a question many have tried to answer, one I believe goes back to the time where the muggles feared, hated, and prosecuted us. Or one might say it goes back to a time where we were openly practised our craft and considered leaders, kings and queens, even gods."

"Gods?"

Professor McGonagall smiled at her, "Indeed, ancient Egypt, Ancient Greece, even here the Celts worshipped us in some format; perhaps many wish to go back to those times."

"Why did the Dark Lord try to rule us?"

"Do any of us truly know what lies within another's heart? What drives them? We certainly can speculate, but we may never know or understand."

Holly frowned. She understood what drove her aunt, uncle and cousin: greed, envy, pride and a desire to be better than anyone else. 

"What was his name?"

Professor McGonagall hesitated shivering slightly and had Holly not been paying close enough attention she would have missed the hesitation, before quietly answering, "Lord Voldemort. Though please be aware his name is rarely said. People are too afraid to even think it even now and refer to him as You-Know-Who."

"But that's stupid."

"And yet fear holds much power over people. They were dark times; very dark times and people have come to fear to speak the name almost as much as they fear the one who it belongs to."

Professor McGonagall continued, "You-Know-Who amassed many followers together. He promised to get rid of Muggle-borns, and he promised those who followed him; power, wealth and the world. That was enough for many to turn to him. Others followed out of fear."

Holly tilted her head again ever so slightly before asking her next question, "Is he still around?"

Professor McGonagall shook her head, and her face took on a bit of awe. "He was defeated when you were one. Nobody knows what happened that night, I doubt we ever will," she started, "He attacked your family home on Halloween night, along with three of his followers. The Longbottom's were there also with their son your families were celebrating the night together. Both your parents and the Longbottom's had been fighting against You-Know-Who since they left school. Both your father and Frank Longbottom were Aurors - our police that also acts as our military to a degree." She added as Holly opened her mouth to ask another question.

Holly snapped her mouth closed, frowning at the Professor's explanation, "What happened?"

"I can't answer, but I do know that Frank and Alice Longbottom's lives ended that night. You-Know-Who attempted to kill both Neville and you, but something happened, and he failed. You both survived, and You-Know-Who vanished."

"I think I remember a green flash of light," Holly whispered, "It's been haunting my dreams for as long as I could remember, but it never made any sense."

Professor McGonagall paled, her eyes widening a fraction as her voice dropped an octave, as she whispered, "The Killing Curse. Unsurvivable, until that night."

"Why that night?" Holly quizzed. 

"It is said that Neville Longbottom survived the Killing Curse directed at him, leaving a mark on his forehead. Of course, nobody knows for certain, but it was enough for the public to jump on the hope that You-Know-Who was defeated and it marked Neville as the Boy-Who-Lived. Surviving something that until that point, had never been survived before."

Holly blinked it sound almost impossible, but then she supposed anything was possible with magic. But it didn't explain what happened to her parents, or why she had a lightning bolt scar either.

"You said the Longbottom's died that night Professor, but what happened to my parents?"

Professor McGonagall stared at her, "Miss Potter, your parents are still alive.

* * *

* * *

Holly was uncertain what to expect when she had asked to see her parents. If truth be told, she was unsure how she should feel about that particular revelation either. Numb, it was a good enough word to use. She was numb on the surface with her true feelings covered under a layer of numbness and ice that was impenetrable and impervious. Holly knew how to control her emotions, suppressing those that would lead to trouble, and using those that she needed to shield her. Holly had learned not to show her feeling for others to use, and her only protection had been a mask of indifference. 

_To never flinch._

Her mask had become her armour and it was easy as breathing to firmly fix into place as she watched Professor McGonagall argue with some wizards and witches in pale green and yellow robes. St Mungo's had not been what she was expecting, but then she wasn't entirely sure what she had been expecting, as her gaze swept across the place before the Healers escorted them onto the Janus Thickey ward.

Lily Potter was sitting on the bed, looking at the ceiling. Her mother seemed untroubled by their presence, or even aware that they were there. She just sat silently, head tilted to the side, almost as if she was listening to something only she could hear. Her lips curved upwards into what could be perceived as a smile if Holly squinted. Holly chose to see it as a smile as she pushed her glasses up from the bridge of her nose. It made her mother look peaceful, happy and content even as she sat there. Completely unaware of what was going on around her. 

Holly shifted on her feet, uncomfortably. Once upon a time she had dreamt of her parents, imagined every detail of them. While she had known they were dead, or at least dead according to her aunt, she had still done it. In her dreams, her father had been a fireman, a hero that rescued people from the burning flames that engulfed them. He had been kind, caring and loved both her and her mother dearly. Her mother had been a doctor, saving people's lives daily. It was how the two had met. 

Nowhere in her dreams had she dreamt they would be stuck in a hospital lost in their minds, alive, if not well. 

"Lily," Professor McGonagall's voice was very gentle. "I've brought Holly to see you. Your daughter." She touched Holly's shoulder.

Not that she needed a push. 

Holly walked forward and felt almost as if she was dreaming.

Her mum looked up at her. Emerald green wide eyes that appeared glazed as she looked right through her. The same eyes that Holly had. She hadn't known that. She had dark red hair that hung loosely around her oval shaped face. 

One hand reached shakily and touched her cheek. 

"Pretty," her mum whispered, "So bright, like starlight. For all to see. They whisper, whisper about you. Bright light, they call to you, but you don't hear, so they weep and weep. The girl with the death coloured eyes does not hear."

Holly frowned, "What does that mean?"

"You must understand Miss Potter; she was tortured until her mind broke. Very little of what she says makes any sort of sense, even perhaps to herself. The fact she is even talking is something of an achievement, mostly she is silent," The Healer answered, speaking up for the first time since they had entered the room.

Holly nodded once but pushed aside any other questions as her father walked in. She looked like him, the same black messy hair, he wore glasses too. He shook her hand but said nothing to her. Instead, he paced, up and down, whispering to something or someone. Nothing made very much sense though she did catch the odd word here and there. Her chest ached, looking at him, looking at both of them and seeing them for the first time, touching them for the first time. Or at least the first time that she could remember. 

"What happened to them?" she asked as they left her parents and the ward behind. Perhaps it was a question she should have asked before she had seen them, but Holly had been distracted on the idea of seeing them that she forgot to ask for the details. Now she wanted to know everything.

"The night You-Know-Who and the followers he brought with him attacked, the odds weren't in your parents or the Longbottom's favour. It is difficult to state who cast what spell on who, all I can say is during the fight that night; there were traces of a particularly dark spell known as the Cruciatus Curse." Professor McGonagall wrinkled her nose in disgust, "That curse is a particularly painful curse with its only known purpose to inflict great pain on another. Your parents, well you have seen the result of yourself that such a spell can cause."

"Is there no cure?"

The Professor sighed, sadly, "The human mind is a complex structure. Some believe that it is the most complex structure in the universe. I know a great many people have tried over the years to understand more about it, but as of yet, there is no cure. No way to heal them. Not in a magical or muggle sense."

"But surely there was the protection of some kind?"

"There was, but they were betrayed by one they trusted."

"Someone willingly betrayed them?" Holly asked sharply, her eyes narrowing as she looked up at the Professor. 

"Yes."

Holly stayed quiet, her mind racing with everything she had learnt. She couldn't wrap her head around half the things she had learned, but there were a few things that stood out in her mind clearer than crystal. 

"Who...," she licked her lips before finishing her question, "who was responsible?"

"The ones in the attack, Bellatrix Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange, Rabastan Lestrange and Barty Crouch Jr. The friend who betrayed them was called Sirius Black."

The names burned in her mind, and anger stirred deep inside her. She could almost feel her whole body shake with fury. A furious wind whipped around inside of her. Outside though she insured her face was smooth of the inner turmoil. Ensuring her mask of indifference was firmly in place as her mind started to race with ideas. 

"What happened to them?"

"Aurors arrested the Lestranges and Crouch at the scene. Your home ended up destroyed in the backlash of magic and You-Know-Who's disappearance. They were disorientated and unable to escape. The Aurors that turned up were quickly able to round them up, but of course, Alice and Frank were dead, Lily and James were incapable of answering any questions, and there were two one-year-olds in considerable distress. It was a mess." Holly felt the gaze of the Professor pressing down on her skin, "You got your scar that night as well."

Involuntarily her hand rose to touch her forehead, her fingers tracing the long lightning bolt scar. Her aunt had spat at her 'that she received it during the car crash' when she had dared to question it, along with claiming it to be ugly. 

It was ugly. Holly couldn't deny that, but she had accepted it as part of who she was, now though Holly wished she could get rid of it. Hide it away. Sear it off her skin if such a thing was possible. 

"What about Black?" the words dripped with heated anger that surprised her. 

"He was confronted by another friend of your parents, Peter Pettigrew, for his crime. They duelled, and Peter was killed, along with thirteen muggles. Sirius was eventually apprehended and also imprisoned."

Holly stopped listening, her emotions twisting and turning and the numbness that had hidden them deep inside of her cracked, allowing them to pour forth. 

_She hated, hated, hated!_

Imprisoned, they may be, but that wasn't good enough. They needed to pay. They had to pay.

_Never forget._

Holly wouldn’t forget, ever. She would see that those who had hurt her parents would pay.

* * *

* * *

Goblins.

Gringotts. 

Mounds and mounds of gold coins buried beneath London's streets, it was an exciting revelation, even if buried wasn't precisely the right word to use. Holly could easily picture the Dursleys face if they ever learnt about it. 

Her mind was racing at the endless possibilities of just what she would be able to do with that money. It was perhaps why she was caught slightly off guard by a Goblin stepping in front of her. A mistake on her part as she was usually better aware of when someone was approaching her. 

Holly stared at the Goblin. 

The Goblin stared back. 

She knew it was rude and yet she couldn't help it. She had never seen anything like him before. Neither of them made any move to speak first, and Holly was aware of Professor McGonagall's curious gaze on them. The Goblin shoved something into her hand before turning on his heel and returning to the cart. 

Holly looked down in surprise. 

It was an envelope. 

A thick heavy envelope, with her name neatly written on the front. 

_Had it been inside the vault and I hadn't noticed. Where did it come from? Who sent it?_

They were questions though that would have to wait as Professor McGonagall stepped into the cart, and both teacher and Goblin looked at her expectantly. Shoving it into her pockets, Holly scurried after them.

* * *

* * *

It was with somewhat a sad acceptance that Minerva concluded that Holly Potter would not be going to Gryffindor. Her eyes had lit with a burning light in them as she had taken in every sight and sound she could of Diagon Alley. The girl had practically inhaled the Alley if such a thing was possible. The moment they stepped out of Gringotts with a bag full of coins, it took all of her will to rein her in. 

Her excitement; reminding Minerva that despite her appearances, Holly Potter was still a ten-year-old child...deep inside. 

It was perhaps the most childish behaviour she had seen from the girl, so far. They had barely entered Flourish and Blotts before the girl shot off with an impertinent curiosity she had come to recognise as being a core part of Ravenclaws. Not that the other houses were not curious, far from it, but Ravenclaws had to understand everything, right down to the nitty-gritty details that most people would not even consider as being important. She watched in some amusement as the girl manoeuvred her way through the shelves, pulling books at random and adding them to her growing pile. In this instant, she reminded her so much of Lily it almost hurt.

Minerva approved undoubtedly of some of the books she chose, every one of them educational in some way, whether to help in school or give her more insight into the Wizarding World than she had the time to give her. She listened to suggestions and smiled her appreciation until she felt satisfied she had enough to keep her going.

After they left the bookshop, the girl slipped away from her several times before she found her to pull her back on track. Several trinkets, toys and old books were bought in that meantime.

It was this that gave Minerva the impression that Holly Potter would find a home in the Slytherin House as quickly and efficiently as she could in Ravenclaw. Determined, focused and reserved, she pushed forward chasing her goals, regardless of the obstacles that stood in her way. This instance Minerva found that she, herself, was, in fact, the barrier as she once again pulled Holly away from a shop that Holly did not need to be in for school supplies as she purchased a few more trinkets. 

"I want to learn. I want to understand." Holly answered in a somewhat simple way when Minerva asked her what it was she intended to do with everything she was purchasing. 

A small voice in the back of her mind told her she was too soft, she hardly ever let muggle-borns have this much freedom the first time they entered Diagon Alley, but the way Holly's face lit up instantly made Minerva realise she would happily spend all day here if she had to. She doubted the girl had ever really had a chance to be free. 

A little fun and freedom never hurt anyone.

She watched as the girl listened in silent fascination as the apothecary shopkeeper explained the difference between certain ingredients and when best to use. She smiled as Holly fired questions at the craftsman who designed the many magical trunks before purchasing her own, and Minerva found herself all but laughing out loud as Holly ran circles around various peddlers attempting to sell her things. 

Eventually, it came to the last item on her list a wand. 

Ollivander did his usual spiel when it came to matching a wand to a witch or wizard. The tape measure acted on its own accord while he muttered about the wand choosing the wizard. And so began the process of actually trying the wands. She lost count at how many Holly held in her hand only for it to get snatched away seconds later. Some produced sparkles; others destroyed something in its path. 

"Difficult customer I see, well I have yet to be defeated, Miss Potter, and today won't be the day I will be. I will find a match for you, mark my words," Ollivander muttered half to himself, half to the girl. 

He produced more and more wands until he found a match. 

Minerva could almost feel it in the air. Like everything stood to attention the moment Holly's hand grasped the handle. The air almost sang with magic. The wand itself seemed to emanate a bright luminous light that lit the entire shop up. She almost had to shield her eyes. 

"Oh, bravo!" Ollivander clapped, "I do believe we have found you a match. An interesting match and an unexpected one. I had thought it would go to another, but the wand chooses the witch or wizard. Holly - wand 11" nice and supple, with a core of a phoenix. I do believe Miss Potter we will be expecting many great things from you, many great things."

Minerva frowned slightly but pushed the thoughts from her mind before taking hold of Holly and ushering her out of the shop. Ollivander was cryptic at the best of times, but even for him, that was cryptic.

* * *

* * *

The Dursleys were afraid of her now. 

Holly could see it in their eyes when she returned they dared not meet her gaze, of course, they had been afraid of her before; their behaviour towards her was how they coped with that fear. Lashing out and hoping she would shrivel under their weight. Holly found now she cared even less for them than she had before. They held no meaning, no significance, or importance. 

It had been a slip of the tongue on her part, she hadn't meant to mention her room under the cupboard, but when she had moved towards it to store her new things Professor McGonagall had exploded. Holly had been right on one account; she was not a person she wanted to cross ever. Words exchanged, some incredibly vicious on both parties side until finally, she found herself packing her things up and taking them to Dudley's second room. Dudley had cried but found himself for the first time in his life, ignored. Professor McGonagall stayed only long enough to change the room to her tastes and place wards on the door stopping all but her from entering. With one final explanation that she was required to attend Summer School the following Monday and to be ready and waiting outside for eight o'clock, Professor McGonagall left. 

Holly found herself lying on a queen-size bed, with walls painted green and the night sky on her ceiling. She loved every inch of it. 

Her books lay scattered across the bed, open on random pages that caught her interest, ink and parchment neatly stored on her bedside cabinet as she slowly began practising writing with the blasted thing. It was only now as she looked up at the ceiling that she remembered the goblin and the envelope. Pulling it out of her pocket, she carefully examined it. Her name was written neatly on the front, the y's curving with a feminine touch.

She frowned. 

Who could have written to her?

Holly took a deep breath. 

_Open the letter._

With trembling hands, she carefully opened the letter, pulled out the parchment and unfolded it. 

_My dearest Holly..._

She ran one hand over the elegantly written words not wanting to blink lest everything disappear. Tears ran freely down her cheeks as she made herself more comfortable to read the letter. Her mother had written this. 

_Her mother!_

Tears streamed down her cheeks, and a small smile crept across her lips; she finally had a piece of her mother, words meant for her. And while they hadn't explained anything at all they had undeniably given her something she had never had before. The knowledge that her mother and father had loved her had really and truly loved her. Turning back to the envelope, Holly pulled out a thick crimson red book that appeared to be a dairy. Opening the first page, she could see a set of complex-looking equations with a series of symbols that seemed to be written randomly on the page. 

Holly had enjoyed maths to some degree while in primary school. It had been logical something she could sink her teeth into, but she was sure she had never seen anything like this before. From what she could see, they were unsolved. 

Did her mother expect her to understand it? Or did she expect her to find a way to understand it? 

It was a puzzle, a puzzle left by her mother and Holly did love puzzles.

She looked at them again, but nothing made any sense to her, nor did she have a eureka moment. She wasn't sure exactly how long she just looked at the page in front of her, absorbing them in her mind and attempting to put them in some order that didn't seem so scrambled or random. It was like some part of her deep down recognised them, but it was just out of reach. 

Sighing in frustration, she put down the equations and reread her mother's letter hoping for some clue. 

She found none. It was something she was going to have to work out. Mentally she added it to the list that was already forming in her mind. 

Holly couldn't deny that she had goals. Goals that had come to light as the day rolled on. It had started as two, but now it would include a third. 

_One she was going to solve her mother's puzzle._

_Two, she was going to make those responsible for causing so much pain to her family pay._

_Three, she was going to cure her parents._

It would take time. Holly was a realist. She knew nothing about magic, and she would need to learn. Time and study. She would take the time. She would study everything, learn everything. She would become the best she could be. Better than anyone. No avenue would be unturned. She would understand, and she would succeed.

It was a silent promise, but one Holly knew she would keep. 

Many things seem impossible only so long as one does not attempt them. Holly would attempt what others dared not, and she would succeed where others failed. Holly nodded in determination, flipped herself over to lie on her stomach and picked up the first book and began to read.

* * *

* * *

Despite what a great many people thought Minerva was not quick to anger despite belonging to the Gryffindor House.

Minerva found a lot of people depended entirely too much on the school House one was sorted in to determine a witch or wizard’s personality. Still, there was far more to a person than whether they were a Slytherin or a Gryffindor, a Hufflepuff or a Ravenclaw. At least in her opinion. And while she loved her school house dearly she was not blind to its faults like many thought her to be, nor was she a hot-headed temperamental fool as Severus often sneered her way when one of her Gryffindor’s had done something foolishly hot-tempered. 

No, her anger was cold and slow-building. She was firm and made it clear early not to cross her, but her anger was cold. One look at Holly, with eyes too cold and no knowledge of her heritage and her anger, started to course through her veins. The cupboard under the stairs, that was smothered in darkness, a darkness the Muggles would never cleanse from their home, it clung to every inch of the small space. That had pushed her into the clear cutting cold anger. 

It was that anger that had her making her way towards Albus’ office the moment she arrived back into Hogwarts. Ignoring the startled yelp from the house-elves as she passed. 

Thankfully she found Albus exactly where she knew he would be, sitting behind his desk, staring at nothing in particular, when she came in, he looked up. His eyes sorrowful and intent as though he _knew_ why she was here and had been expecting her. Minerva refused to allow it to waver her from her path. 

“Why?”

It was one word, but it cut straight through the room, leaving no wiggle room as to interpret what she was angry at in any other way. Albus _knew_ which new student she had gone to see today. 

Albus sighed tiredly, his shoulders sagging, and for a brief moment, he looked every inch his age. 

“It was necessary.”

Minerva waited, her heart gave a slow, steady thump as she waited for him to elaborate, to explain further. 

“The events of Voldemort’s fall remain at large a mystery to most, and while the world proclaimed young Neville the Boy-Who-Lived, I didn’t dare risk leaving Holly without protection. They were her only suitable living family for the blood wards to work. She had to live with them, to give her the protection she would need should one of Voldemort’s followers choose to go after her. The magic of his ancestral home would protect Neville, the wards of Longbottom Manor are old and powerful, but Holly didn’t have that,” Albus said softly. 

“And what was to protect her from the evil inside Albus? What was to protect her from _them_?” she kept her voice iron because the reasoning behind leaving Holly was one she could believe in, even as she couldn’t excuse the years' Holly had suffered as a result.

“A necessary sacrifice. Holly is alive, was kept safe, if not exactly how I had hoped she would have her childhood. Petunia knew that the only way she and her family would be kept safe is if she took in her sister’s daughter.”

A cold chill clutched at her heart. 

“They are children Albus, _not_ sacrifices, _not_ pawns on a board. Holly has suffered as a result of your actions, and I fear just how much. Lily and James would _never_ forgive you for leaving their child with them.” 

“And that is a burden which I will have carry,” Albus countered, “Holly is alive, and that is better than the alternative.” His too blue eyes looked at her intently, Minerva was glad to see that the usual twinkle was at least absent, that he realised the graveness of his actions. Still, then Albus always thought of the bigger picture, she had seen that in her years as Deputy Head, as she had on the battlefield fighting side by side with the man before her. Only _he_ had never truly feared Voldemort. But Minerva couldn’t ignore the look in Holly’s eyes, couldn't ignore the coldness that had threatened to consume her.

“She deserved to be loved, Albus. She deserved to be safe and happy. She deserved more than what you left her with, and I don’t think I can forgive you for that.”

“I expect no less, after all, how could I possibly expect you to do anything else but care for children under your charge,” Albus smiled sadly. 

“I just hope we don’t end up paying for your mistakes, Albus, after all, if a child has only known darkness, why would they fear it.”

The smile dropped, not that Minerva had wanted to hurt Albus, merely think of the consequences his actions could lead to. She crossed the office to the door without a backward glance; her anger still simmering under the surface as she departed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has commented, bookmarked, subscribed and left kudos to this story. I truly appreciate that you gave it a chance and that you enjoyed the first chapter. 
> 
> My original plan was to post this chapter on Sunday, but I have been working on it all day and its finished and I am a little excited (and nervous) to share the second chapter so here we go. 
> 
> Quite possible when I look at this again tomorrow with 'fresh eyes' I will be - how did you leave that error there, or you need to tweak that a little, but until then please enjoy. 
> 
> All mistakes are mine and mine alone.

**Chapter 2**

Holly didn't have much time to prepare for summer school, a few days passing in a blink of an eye but in that time she tried to read as much as she could. The more she read, the more questions she had, and she was left spinning with terms and explanations and examples that sounded both fascinating and unbelievable at the same time. Was it possible that one day she would be able to perform such feats of magic? Holly intended to ensure that it would happen as iron determination coursed through her, the only way she would achieve anything was if she chased after it. 

She rose early Monday morning, excitement buzzing through her making any chance of sleep impossible, and dressed as quietly as she could. Professor McGonagall had instructed her with what she needed to bring, and even though she had packed her bag the night before, Holly had to double-check again, to make she did have everything she needed. Ink, quills, and parchment - she had even slipped in one of her textbooks so she would have something to read on the journey. 

She dressed in the plain black school robes she purchased, catching her reflection in the mirror that hung on her wardrobe door, she barely recognised herself, so used to seeing herself in baggy hand-me-downs from Dudley, that was miles too big for her and usually torn in some manner. Her robes were new, as was everything else and she had replaced her thick-framed glasses with cello-tape across the bridge for a thinner black frame that suited her face more and had the right prescription for her vision. Holly had never been one to care about her appearance before, but as her reflection stared back at her, she couldn’t help but see the improvement. Cleaner, tidier, looked after and while a few days out of the cupboard wouldn’t exactly repair years of damage, she didn't look quite as neglected or like one of the lost boys from Peter Pan. There was an air that surrounded her that hadn’t been there a few days ago. Not confidence exactly, but the realisation that she _belonged_ somewhere, even if she didn’t know exactly her place had given her something. 

She rather liked it.

Satisfied that she was presentable, Holly tucked her wand into the pocket of her robe slipped her bag onto her shoulder and made her way out of her room. She ensured the door shut firmly behind her. A tickle ran up the length of her spine signalling the wards were in place. Professor McGonagall had given her assurance that as long as she closed the door firmly behind her when she left her room, nobody else would be able to open the door again. It gave her privacy but also ensured that the Dursleys couldn’t throw her belongings out while she was at summer school. They didn’t want her to attend Hogwarts, and had only reluctantly admitted defeat when Professor McGonagall informed them that if _she_ didn’t attend summer school on Monday morning, there would be severe consequences. Holly wasn’t sure exactly what those consequences would be but the way her aunt and uncle had paled at the words the message had sunk in. Of course, she had no doubt they became mollified by the fact that other than provide a roof over her head and feed her, they would have little to do with her for the next eight weeks.

Holly made her way downstairs as quietly as she could, the sounds of Dudley and Uncle Vernon snoring following her down the stairs. Holly knew Aunt Petunia would already be awake, and in the kitchen starting breakfast. Narrowed eyes turned to her the moment she entered the room, before her aunt thrust a plate, with a slice of toast on it, in her direction with a crisp “Here. Don’t get any crumbs on the floor.” 

Her aunt turned away from her the moment she accepted the plate, doing everything in her power to ignore her while she busied herself with the task she was doing before Holly entered.

Holly silently ate her toast, and helped herself to a glass of water, carefully ensuring she wasn’t in her aunt’s line of sight at any given time. 

“You will not discuss it when you return.”

Holly blinked in surprise, looking up at her aunt, who had turned to face her, her expression unreadable. 

“Whatever you learn, whatever you do at that…that _school_ ,” venom dripped the last word, as she hissed it, “No mention of magic, nothing about what you have learned. I do _not_ care. I do not want to know about anything you get up to, anything that happens. Do you understand?” Aunt Petunia demanded, her lips pressed together, and there was a flicker of irritation in her narrowed eyes. 

“Yes, Aunt Petunia,” Holly said, blankly. She had learned a long time ago not to flinch at the words that her family threw at her. If she flinched she showed they hurt, she gave them the satisfaction _they_ had hurt her, and they would continue to do so whenever they wanted to. To drive the message home a little bit more that they didn’t love her that they didn’t care. Holly refused to give them the satisfaction of making her weak, of making her hurt, of making her suffer. 

_Never flinch._

That lesson had helped her over the years here. 

Aunt Petunia stared at her, holding her gaze longer than necessary, before dismissing her with a short, sharp nod, and once again turning her back on her. Holly cleaned her plate and glass before putting them away after she finished her breakfast. Picking up her bag, she left the kitchen behind without a second glance, making her way to the front door and slipped out of the house.

The instructions stated she needed to be ready and waiting outside, directly in front of the house for eight o'clock on the dot. She had no idea what to expect, but Professor McGonagall had assured her everything would be fine. From what she had gauged from Professor McGonagall, and a glance at Hogwarts: A History, summer school was a new addition to Hogwarts. 

Holly was grateful that it was early enough that nobody would be out and about to see her standing on the pavement directly in front of number 4 Privet Drive in her school robes. Her aunt and uncle would have a meltdown if anything _not normal_ were associated with their house, and while her school robes were fairly sensible compared to some of the wizarding clothes she had seen, they weren’t exactly what a ten-year-old muggle would wear.

Not that she had to wait long, within minutes of her stepping outside a purple minibus appeared with a rumble that sounded more animalistic than like an engine, before braking to a stop inches away from her. On the front a black sign with golden letters proudly declared ‘Hogwarts Transport’. The door opened, and a tall man with a square face, dressed in a black and purple uniform stepped onto the pavement. 

“Miss Potter?” he asked cheerfully.

“Yes…?” 

“Benjamin Pike, at your service, conductor and driver for the Hogwarts Transport,” he beamed proudly. 

Holly blinked in surprise. She hadn’t expected something as ordinary as a minibus to pick her up and take her to magical summer school. Holly gave a tight smile, before following Benjamin up the few short steps onto the bus. She could feel curious eyes watching her, and her heart jumped against her chest. 

_Never flinch._

_Never fear._

Her gaze swept across the minibus. Outside it appeared to be a sixteen seater, however inside was a whole different story, far bigger than it should be rows of seats lined the bus two seats on one side and a single seat on the other. Seven pairs of wide eyes fixed their gaze on her for a moment, before busying themselves with whatever they were doing before the bus stopped. She saw one girl with bushy brown hair, sitting near the front; return her attention to the book on her lap after eying Holly up for a moment. Holly could almost taste the nervous excitement that emanated from them.

Holly picked a single seat, smiling politely to a boy and a girl who was sitting the other side of the small aisle that separated her seat and theirs. There was a similarity between them that Holly would have hazard a guess they were siblings. Benjamin sat back in his seat, and the doors magically closed the moment he pulled a leaver which lunged the bus with such force, Holly hit the seat in front of her. A glance around at the disgruntled groans from those around her it seemed that it was a common occurrence that they had experienced more than once yet they still hadn’t quite prepared enough for it.

“Just another eight stops before we reach our destination,” Benjamin called over his shoulder, before turning the bus sharply left. 

Holly could barely believe her eyes as she tried to focus outside, the world was moving far too fast for her to concentrate on anything, and when she could, it was because the whole bus slowed down to squeeze through something that should be next to impossible to squeeze through. It defied the laws of physics as magic seemed to do, but houses jumping out of the way were an impressive sight to see. It was amazing that the muggles didn’t hear anything, or see anything for that matter.

“Benjamin was telling us that the Hogwarts Transport Bus is a smaller version of the Knight Bus, and has all sorts of spells and charms on it, so the muggles don’t see a thing,” the boy behind her declared happily. Holly glanced up at him, unaware she had voiced a question out loud or whether he was merely guessing as he had wondered the same. He was hanging on the back of her seat, head peeping over, and appeared unaffected by the impossible movement of the bus they found themselves on, “Kevin Entwhistle.”

He stuck his hand out for her, which Holly took. 

“Holly Potter.”

“Pleasure. So were your parents surprised when you received your letter? My dad fainted when the Professor turned a vase into a bird,” he grinned. 

“I don’t live with my parents,” she answered evenly. 

His smile faltered as though he wasn’t sure how to answer her short answer; round hazel eyes blinked rapidly at her as if he was expecting her to elaborate further. Holly didn’t, but then talking to other people wasn’t something she was very good at, nor was making friends. As if sensing her mood, or not quite sure how to carry on the conversation she had shut down before it had even begun, Kevin Entwhistle sat back into his seat, as the bus drew to a stop. A sliver of guilt twisted in her stomach that she hadn’t been friendly, but she pushed it aside. She didn’t have to tell people about her parents if she didn’t want to. And _she_ didn’t, because it wasn’t any of their business. It was bad enough that the Wizarding World as a whole seemed to know what happened to her parents when she had known nothing about them; she had no intention of sharing things willingly that others could use against her in the future. She knew how cruel other children could be. 

Holly silently counted the stops, each one a first-year stepped on, each one a combination of excitement and nerves that seemed to bounce through them until eventually, the minibus had all the students that would be attending the summer school. Benjamin announced that it would be five minutes until they reached their destination. Time seemed to be a difficult thing to track inside the minibus, it felt as though she had only been on the bus for ten minutes herself, yet as she listened to the others talk amongst themselves, she could hear the accents of different places. A girl from South Wales, a boy from North Wales, a girl from Birmingham, a boy from Yorkshire, and so it went. Nor could Holly make heads or tails in the order in which the bus stopped to pick up the next student, it didn’t appear to be location, or alphabetically based on their surnames but rather a random mixture. Finally; the bus drew to a final stop. Benjamin rose to his feet, and the doors opened, he turned to look at them all, a grin split his face from ear to ear.

“Welcome to Hogsmeade. We have a short distance to walk before we reach our final destination. If you will, please exit the bus.”

One by one the first-years piled out of the bus, Holly took her place in the middle of the group. Hogsmeade, as she was quick to discover, was a small village that was entirely magical. The minibus had pulled up on the outskirts of the village, near a train platform. 

“In future, you will be expected to walk up to the school on your own and return here every day to the pick-up point at five-thirty. If you aren’t on the bus by then, you will be left behind.”

With that warning, Benjamin led them through the village that was only starting to wake up. Holly’s eyes swept around, taking in the sights around her, lips twitching in a smile, at how much she was beginning to love the Wizarding World. There were a variety of shops and businesses ranging from sweet shops, to joke shops: tea rooms, post offices, hair salons, inns, greengrocers and butchers. Dotted amongst the shops and businesses were houses of all shapes and sizes, each one unique in its way. The village reminded Holly of the picturesque villages found on Christmas cards. Witches and wizards greeted them with friendly smiles as they set about opening up their businesses, goods floating out in front to entice passersby. Holly itched to explore but didn’t dare leave the line of first-years that followed Benjamin.

As they made their way out of town, Holly could see what looked like an enormous castle off in the distance. 

“Oh wow,” one of the other children said, and Holly couldn’t help but agree as her breath caught in her throat. 

Benjamin chuckled, “Wait until you see inside.”

“You mean that is Hogwarts?” the girl with the bushy hair asked quizzically.

“Sure is. I spent the best seven years of my life there, course it’s changed somewhat since I graduated. More options with subjects to learn, and of course, the summer school is a fairly new thing as well. You lot are the fourth lot of first-years to attend summer school since the law that made it mandatory passed. People high in the Ministry have said there's considerable improvement in the grades since the program started. I wish I had the option you are getting before I started at Hogwarts. I was overwhelmed during those first few months.”

Holly frowned slightly, chewing over Benjamin’s words. She had realised the summer school was a relatively new thing, having found no mention in Hogwarts: A History, but also by the subtle distaste that had crossed Professor McGonagall’s face when relaying the instructions. Holly doubted many people would have noticed it, but she had learnt early to read people to the best of her ability, especially adults. What had exactly happened for this law to pass and what were the reasons behind it? Benjamin, as enthusiastic as he was, was spewing well-practised words. Holly had heard Uncle Vernon rehearsing enough speeches or witty-lines, he thought would get him noticed, for work to recognise a scripted speech, but the question was why? And exactly whose ‘company line’ was Benjamin preaching.

It was half a mile walk to the castle, and the closer they got, the more in awe Holly became her stomach fluttering excitedly. The castle was rich in detailed statues and structure, with numerous amounts of towers, some of which appeared to have buildings attached to the side that seemed to float out of the side of the original tower. Bridges connected sections of the castle and considering the age of the castle; it was in excellent shape. Professor McGonagall met them at the castle gates dressed in forest green robes, hair pinned up in a neat bun, and looking considerably sterner than when Holly had last met her only days ago.

“Professor McGonagall,” Benjamin greeted. 

“Mr Pike,” Professor McGonagall returned, nodding slightly. “I presume that you will be meeting them at the gates today before taking them back to the minibus.”

“Just for the first day. So they don’t get lost, wouldn’t do for them to get eaten between here and Hogsmeade on their first day.”

The Professor’s lips gave a tight smile, “We will see you at five o’clock then.”

Benjamin gave them an encouraging wave before turning on his heel and walking back the way they had come. 

“Welcome to Hogwarts. For those of you who have not met me during your introduction to the Wizarding World, my name is Professor McGonagall. Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am the Head of Gryffindor, which some of you may soon become members of, and I am your soon-to-be Transfiguration Professor,” she greeted, her eyes sweeping across them all. “You have all been raised in the muggle-world, due to your Muggle roots or as a Half-blood who has lived separately from the Wizarding World. As a result, it is required you attend a mandatory eight-week summer school that will ensure your lack of magical education does not put you at a disadvantage at the start of the school term.”

Professor McGonagall studied each of them intently, as though to ensure that each one of them was listening closely before continuing. 

“It would be wise if you did not waste this opportunity granted to you. As you are about to enter Hogwarts, you will find that the only accessible areas will be the Great Hall, where you will have your lessons and the girls and boys toilets on the ground floor. The rest of the school is out of bounds and warded to ensure you cannot enter. You may spend some of your lunch break outside provided you do not enter the Forbidden Forest. After today you will unlikely see me until the start of term. Now, if you would like to follow me, I will take you to the Great Hall, where you will meet your tutor for your morning session.” 

They followed Professor McGonagall up the sloping hill, and across a large bridge, before exiting into a squared courtyard which had a large tree in the centre, and seats around the trunk. Double doors stood wide open, welcoming them in. The Entrance Hall was so big that it could have easily fit the whole of the Dursleys’ house in it. Stone walls rose above them, and the ceiling was too high to make out directly opposite them a magnificent marble staircase led upwards to the upper floors. The walls were decorated with unlit sconce and frames of different shapes and sizes appeared to have a mix of portraits, landscapes and objects in them. Holly blinked owlishly, as the portraits were capable of moving, as she noted one witch move from one frame to the next to get a better look at them. Professor McGonagall led them across the Entrance Hall to the second set of double doors, which led to a large hall which Holly presumed, was the Great Hall.

The Hall had tall walls that reached up to the ceiling which seemed to match the pale blue sky outside as if it there wasn’t a ceiling there but rather an open sky. Small windows ran down the length of the Hall and directly in front of them was a large window where the light shined through. In front of the large window, Holly could see a long rectangle table where a golden throne-like chair sat at the centre, and chairs on either side. In front of the table, a short, squat woman stood, dressed in light pink robes. She had a broad, flabby face, a wide slack mouth and a little neck. Her eyes, bulging and pouchy, studied them intensely. A large black velvet bow pushed her mousy brown hair out of her face. Directly in front of her, Holly could see sixteen desks and chairs, with what looked to be a workbook on each desk. One for each student. Professor McGonagall led them to the tables and the waiting witch.

“Madam Umbridge, your students,” Professor McGonagall said civilly. 

“Thank you, Deputy Headmistress,” she responded in a sugary voice, that was a little too high-pitched. 

Professor McGonagall departed, leaving them standing in silence, waiting for their ‘tutor’ to instruct them in what to do next. 

Madam Umbridge smiled at them, her smile reminding Holly of a toad, before she gestured at the desks, “Children, take your seats. My name is Madam Umbridge, and I am your Ministry assigned tutor for your morning sessions for the next eight weeks. It is my job, given to me by our esteemed Minister Thomas Gaunt,” she gave a high pitched giggle as the name rolled off her tongue, and Holly could hear the admiration as clear as day in her tone. “To ensure that those with an unfortunate lack of magical education are at a standard one expects a student, deemed worthy to enter the great halls of Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to have. Something which has previous students have lacked.”

Madam Umbridge waved her wand, and a large blackboard appeared. Another flick and white chalked words appeared on the board, ‘Wizard Studies’. Holly nibbled on her bottom lip, as she looked between the board and the woman in front of her. 

“There is a lot to cover in our three and half-hour sessions, and I will not tolerate slacking of any kind. Every morning throughout each of our discussions and workbooks, we will be practising the usage of a quill to ensure your writing is eligible and clear to understand. Over the next eight weeks, we will be spending equal time on each of the following topics Wizarding Etiquette, Wizarding Government which links to Wizarding Law, and Wizarding Britain. There will be tests each morning to ensure you have retained the information from the previous day. While I will not be setting homework, I do not have the time to spend marking it,” she added, as though reminding them she had _more important_ things to be doing. “It is heavily implied you make detailed notes of our sessions to study for a test at the end of the summer. Your results will impact what subjects will be available to you during your time at Hogwarts.”

She smiled at them, and Holly could tell that it wasn’t a genuine smile. It held no warmth to it. However, her words held a weight that she couldn’t ignore. Holly refused to allow subjects be denied to her purely because she hadn’t tested well. From the looks, on many of the first-years faces alongside her, they felt the same. 

“Now for formality sake, we will each introduce ourselves, and as the first lesson in Wizarding Etiquette, it is usually considered polite on the first introduction to use both your first name and last name. Most witches and wizards will continue using your surname when talking to you until they feel familiar enough or have permission from yourself to use your first name. After all, names hold a certain power to them,” Madam Umbridge twittered.

The class fell silent, except for one who had taken a position at the front. Her hand shot up so fast; Holly was surprised she didn’t end up on her feet from the momentum.

Madam Umbridge pointed her wand at the girl, indicating for her to stand, and the girl pushed herself to her feet before turning towards them, her head held high, eyes shining and there was a smile on her lips. 

“Hermione Granger.”

Madam Umbridge made a sound in the back of her throat, that sounded like she was trying to clear it before indicating the next student to stand.

“Justin Finch-Fletchley,” a boy with brown curly hair introduced. 

One by one, students rose to their feet and introduced themselves, Kevin Entwhistle, Dean Thomas, Lisa Turpin, Natalie and Matthew Parker. Madam Umbridge’s wand pointed in her direction and Holly rose to her feet, aware of sixteen sets of eyes watching her closely. 

Holly ensured her face was blank to hide the nerves currently spiralling through her, her heart pounding loudly in her chest. She hated attention on her; attention always led to bad things. 

“Holly Potter,” she said evenly before sitting back down, grateful that her voice hadn’t betrayed her, with how dry it was.

Madam Umbridge cleared her throat as the last student sat down, her gaze sweeping across them, with a certain level of disdain in her eyes, as though in her opinion each of them wasn’t worthy of being here regardless of the fact they had received their letters. Was she one of the wizardkind Professor McGonagall had warned didn’t like those with muggle-blood. 

“Now that we have all introduced ourselves, we may begin. You may turn over your workbooks.” 

Holly turned over the workbook, it was heavier than she had expected and bound in dark blue leather, on the front in neat golden letters was ‘The Ways of Wizardkind; for Young Witches and Wizards’.

Holly opened the workbook, glancing at the first page, which had a list of questions, and space for them to write down their answers. 

“Who can tell me what the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy is and the year it was established? Madam Umbridge asked, bringing Holly’s attention back to her. 

Granger’s arm shot up once again, with a level of enthusiasm that Holly hadn’t seen before. She liked learning, but she had learnt to hide her love of knowledge and deliberately ensured she did worse than Dudley in everything. Despite knowing all the answers when it came to tests, the punishment for outshining her cousin wasn’t worth the brief seconds of acknowledgement that she wasn’t as stupid as everybody believed her to be. Letting others underestimate her served her far better than others seeing her as someone who knew everything.

“Miss Granger,” Madam Umbridge called, “As you seem to be the only one who knows the answer, why don’t you explain to your fellow first-years.”

Granger beamed, missing the slightly condescending tone in Umbridge’s voice. “The International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy is a law in the Wizarding World that was first signed in 1689 but wasn’t established officially until 1692, almost three hundred years ago. The law was laid down by the International Confederation of Wizards to safeguard the wizarding community from the Muggles and hide its presence from the world at large.”

Madam Umbridge smiled; it was a patronising smile. Holly had seen that type of smile twist her uncle’s face too many times not to know what was to come.

“Quite. Though in future Miss Granger, do more than merely recite the textbook.”

Granger’s smile faltered slightly, and her shoulders sagged a little as she looked down at the desk in front of her. Holly may not know the girl, but it was an unfair comment. It was evident in her eyes that Umbridge was nothing more than a bully, and using her position in power to lord over them. Holly was used to bullies, but just because she was used to them didn’t mean the next eight weeks were going to be easy, not when the bully in question was one who held power over them. 

_It will just be like living with the Dursleys, and you were good at ignoring them._

Holly promised herself that she wouldn’t react to Umbridge, regardless of what the woman may say to her. The woman in question worked through the list of questions in their workbook, giving them only a few short moments to write their answers before moving on to the next question. 

She could do this. She couldn’t afford to fail.

* * *

They broke for lunch at twelve-thirty, after having spent their first-morning session discussing in length the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy. Why it became necessary, how they achieved such a feat of magic and the benefits it brought to the Wizarding World. It was considered a defining moment in wizarding history. As fascinating as the information was, despite the subtle bias, Holly was able to interpret directed at the muggle world from Umbridge, it brought home an important point, that none of the first-years could ignore. How exactly did they fit in? Bordering between worlds, yet not quite belonging to either, at least not at this point in their lives. They who could learn magic, but never be able to share their accomplishments with their parents, their families. Was this how her mother felt so many years ago? Was this why her aunt hated her mother so much? 

Holly wasn’t sure it had been accidental that Umbridge had discussed this topic on their very first day, as though there were more sinister purposes to her actions to drive home the point that they would never truly belong. She was perhaps projecting her suspicious on the older witch, purely down to the fact the adults in her life always had an angle. Words always meant _more,_ were designed to hurt, drive home messages that she didn’t belong, yet Holly couldn’t shake the twisting in her stomach that said this lesson was an ‘intentional message’ to them. She couldn’t know whether the others interpreted it in the same way she was, however, Holly couldn’t deny the sombre mood that had settled over the first-years and the way the mood lightened on Umbridge’s departure.

Within moments of her leaving, a large table appeared out of thin air, and a soft pop accompanied as plates full with food filled the table. 

“You would think they would give us some warning with this sort of thing,” Entwhistle chuckled, as he helped himself to a plate full of food. 

“How do you think it just appeared?” Turpin asked her eyes wide with awe. 

It was a good question Holly mused, as she put a jacket potato and cheese onto her plate with a couple of slices of chicken, how did one make food appear.

“It's a transporter spell,” Granger answered eagerly, eyes shining brightly. “Which is a part of the Conjuration branch. The food was prepared in the kitchens probably and then transported to us.”

“Do you think we will be able to do that one day?” Thomas quizzed hopefully. 

“If we work hard -”

“Oh, lay off Granger, we have an hour just to enjoy ourselves before we have our afternoon session, I hope that the tutor is far better than bloody Umbridge, I can’t believe we have eight weeks with her,” Entwhistle cut across. 

“I suppose she was a bit mean,” Granger conceded, looking down at her plate. 

Perhaps they had been paying more attention to Umbridge than she had given them credit. 

“Mean, she was awful, and she doesn’t like us -”

“It’s because your muggle-borns, or half-bloods that were muggle-raised,” a boy with a sharp face, and black hair answered, Holly, turned her attention to him, recalling that he said his name was Jack Sloper. 

“What do you mean?” Granger asked brown eyes fixed on Sloper. 

“There are some witches and wizards who believe that children from non-magical parents are not as worthy as those who are pure-bloods, or even half-bloods. It was one of the things the last War was fought over.”

“You mean, You-Know-Who?” Thomas whispered loudly.

“I read about that, but he was defeated,” Granger added, “By Neville Longbottom, the Boy-Who-Lived.”

Holly tensed; listening intently to see if Granger would expand on her answer if she would mention her because having fifteen curious eyes looking at her was the last thing she wanted. Thankfully the other girl added nothing further. Even so, Holly found she couldn’t relax as they were talking about a subject that was too close to home. She swallowed slowly and focused on calming her racing pulse and keeping her face blank. To them, she was nothing more than a muggle raised first-year. They didn’t know she was a half-blood; Potter wasn’t an uncommon name in the muggle world after all.

Sloper snorted, “You think that matters. You aren’t pure-bloods or even half-bloods raised in the wizarding world. It means you have lesser standing in some witches and wizards eyes. Not all mind, but some. Why do you think they created the summer school, muggle-borns or those Muggle raised never attended a summer school before. The Minister, passed new laws to ensure that those muggle-raised were up to standards to enrol into Hogwarts. He hasn’t been able to ban your attendance completely, too much opposition, and the Headmaster of Hogwarts is very pro-muggle-borns, but he has still ensured you have to earn your place here. And you heard what Umbridge said, if you don’t do well here, you have limited options available to study.”

Holly watched the other children digest that information, horror and outrage crossing their faces. 

“That is horrible!” Turpin said.

“That is so elitist, and unfair, how can we help who are parents are, and why should we have such a disadvantage because of it?” Granger asked.

Sloper shrugged, “A lot of new laws passed after the war.”

“You're here to Sloper,” Entwhistle pointed out. 

“I’m a half-blood, my dad was a wizard who died in the Wizarding War, it my mum was muggle-born, but after my dad was killed she returned to the muggle world, felt it was safer. So while I am here because I am muggle-raised, I have known about the Wizarding World and magic since I was a baby.”

The others fell silent, Holly could see that none of them was sure what to say, and each of them coming to terms with the idea that the odds stacked against them down to their heritage. Something none of them could change. It was unfair, unjust but as first-years, experiencing their first taste of magic what power did they have to change how the world run. She could see a determination settle over a few of them, determined that they would prove to everyone that their muggle-heritage would not hinder them from being the best they could be and perhaps one day _they_ would have the power to change things.

Holly finished her lunch before everybody else and left the Great Hall to get some fresh air. She found a quiet spot near the lake and took out one of her school books to read. The others trickled out eventually, using the remaining time of their lunch to explore the grounds, and enjoy the fresh air and sunshine. A few of the boys skimmed stones in the lake which resulted in startled cries as large tentacles pushed above the surface before dipping down below. And so a game was made in who saw the most tentacles as they tried to guess the creature they belonged to. 

Lunch drew to a close and together they returned to the Great Hall to find the lunch table had vanished and their desks returned. Standing in front of their desks was a tall thin wizard, dressed in pale grey robes. He had white-blonde hair that came to his shoulders and framed a long narrow face. He appeared only to have a few wrinkles, yet there was an air to him that said he was older than he looked. Pale blue eyes shined with wisdom that most associated with age and life experience, though Holly couldn’t guess how old he actually was.

He spread his arms wide, and a smile crossed his face, “Welcome to the afternoon session of your summer school, please be seated so we can begin.” He spoke softly and clearly with a hint of a French accent, capturing their attention instantly. 

Chairs scuffled against the stone floor as the students took their seats and waited nervously. Each of them understood just how important these lessons were and the impact they had on their school career.

“I am Professor Nicolas Flamel, and I will be your Magical Theory Professor once you enter Hogwarts at the start of September. My job over the summer, however, is to give you a better understanding of magic, its laws, that those living with magic every day would already know.”

He paused, ensuring that he had their full attention, before continuing.

“What is magic?”

Holly wasn’t surprised when Granger’s hand shot up in the air. 

“Yes, Miss Granger,” Professor Flamel, acknowledged. 

“Magic is the ability to enable effect and change the world.”

Professor Flamel inclined his head, “That is one way to look at it. That is what magic does, rather than what magic is and you will find over your years of study, there are many different branches of magic and many different ways to affect and change the world around you. On that, I suppose you could say magic is a method of talking to the universe in words that it cannot ignore.”

As he spoke, his gaze swept over them. “However. Magic is more than what it merely does. Magic is energy, a force that is all around you woven into the very fabric of the world. It is the essence of life and creation. Along with the human heart, soul and emotions. It is what binds us all together.”

Thomas raised his hand waiting until Professor Flamel acknowledged him before asking his question. 

“If magic is life and we all generate it, then how come only witches and wizards can use it?”

"An excellent question Mr Thomas," Professor Flamel smiled, his eyes brightened. "This brings us to our next point. Magic users have a long history, and over that history, there are many terms used to describe us. Druids, Enchanters, Mages, Shamans, Sorcerers, High Priestesses, the list can go on. In every country, there is some form of magic-user that has existed, dating back to Ancient Egypt, to Atlantis, to the lost continent of _Lemuria."_

Holly quickly wrote her notes, as Professor Flamel took a moment to gather his thoughts, pressing a single finger to his lips. She did not want to miss anything he said. Flamel had a way of painting a vivid picture in her mind as he taught that made things clearer to understand, but not only that he was touching on the history of the wizarding world, a history that stretched back further than Holly had imagined. She didn't know much about Ancient Egypt except that they built the pyramids and she had never even heard of Atlantis or the lost continent of Lemuria. 

Holly looked up to Professor Flamel, waiting for him to continue, shuffling to the edge of her seat. She hadn't had a teacher that had captivated her attention so quickly before. 

"Magic users have existed; have practised magic for a very long time. Not in the way we wield magic now perhaps, much has been lost throughout the millennia. Now there are many theories on how the first magic users came to be; some speculate that they _were born of magic._ Much like some magical creatures are born of magic. Others say the talent developed over time, through trial and error, others again state it was gifted to us by the _Others_ \- beings ancient even then."

Flamel paused, eyebrows furrowed, as though he was choosing his next words carefully. 

"The how isn't necessarily important. We have magic. We can wield magic; we can make a connection to this force and bend it to our will, to our intent. Whether for good or for evil will depend entirely on the individual and the interpretation of good and evil when questioned, but that is another day's lesson."

Holly mused over Flamel's words. It felt as if her insides were vibrating, and she eagerly waited for more. The books she had read over so far hadn't even scratched the surface as to what magic was. The more she listened to the Professor, the more her mind spun with possibilities, avenues she wished to explore, to delve into, to discover the wonders that filled the world she was a part of. 

"Now, how does one wield magic? We have our wands, specially crafted to help us channel magic, the wood combined with its magical core, is magical in its own right, but it is a tool to help guide us. The spells we learn are just another tool. They give focus to the magical energy; they shape it into the desired intent, as does the wand movements."

He held up his right hand, pointing one finger upwards as he continued, "But it is our will." 

A second finger joined the first. 

"Our intent."

A third finger followed. 

"Our visualisation that brings forth our magic, that shapes it into the spell that we cast. Without that no amount of correct wand movements, correct incantations are going to allow you to cast magic. An example of this would be a child's accidental magic. How many of you performed accidental magic over the years, had things happen to you that couldn't explain."

One by one, they raised their hands in the air. 

Flamel beamed at them, clapping his hands together. “Your magic, acting to your will, to your desires, even if you weren't aware of what your desires at that moment. You wouldn't have even heard of magic as anything more than a wishful dream. What sets us apart from muggles is not that we generate magic, or that we can wield magic, but that _we_ have magic running through our veins, running through our entire bodies. It is a part of who we are, and without magic, we would not be here. We have our own magical core. A core that acts as a bridge between us and the magic in the world.”

“Now,” he continued, “just because you have a magical core doesn’t mean you are instantly able to wield magic at will. You will still require training and knowledge, and using your wand will make your magic more controlled; it is why we have them. Witches and wizards have studied magical cores over the centuries, they have theorised that they develop over time. As a child grows and develops so does the magical core, becoming more stable and less prone to accidental magic but also allowing a witch or wizard to wield far larger and more complex magics."

Flamel paused, looking down at all of them, before continuing.

“We can measure magical cores on a scale of thirteen colours. There are six light colours and six dark colours with a single colour as a dividing line between light and dark as it fits both. The darker the colour, the more powerful the core is. The colours are as follows: - White, Rose-Quartz, Yellow, Amber, Sky Blue, Purple Dusk, Opal, Green, Sapphire, Red, Grey, Ebony-Grey and Black. Now I expect most of you to be between white and opal at this stage of your magical development, with perhaps one or two of you bleeding over to green or sapphire."

He paused before asking, “Yes, Miss Granger?” 

“Does the strength of your magical core impact the magic you can do?”

Holly looked up from where she had been writing her notes, fixing her gaze on the Professor at the question, nibbling on her bottom lip. A sliver of doubt crawled its way through her body before settling in her stomach hardening and turning heavy. She may have a magical core, but if it was a light colour, would it affect her chance of healing her parents?

“Some professions require a particular strong magical core. You will find most Healers will fall in the spectrum of greens to reds,” Professor Flamel said kindly. Holly shuffled on her seat with the mention of healing. “That is because Healing magic takes a large portion of the Healers magic as well as the individual that is receiving the healing, own magic to work successfully. After all, they are usually countering something of a magical nature.”

Her mouth felt dry. She _needed_ to be strong enough to pursue the Healing Arts. Her goal couldn't be denied merely due to the strength of magic that ran through her.

"Some traditionalist purebloods have their children's magical core tested before they start school. It allows them to gauge and plan prospects for their child's future. Officially though, you are tested when you reach the age of thirteen, when your magical core has gone through one transition of maturity and again when you graduate." Flamel explained to them patiently, "Now in the name of fairness, we can have your magical core tested today should you wish to do so. If you do decide to do so, I want to make clear your results today will not affect your education, nor will they truly represent what your potential is. Never forget. You decide what you make of yourself when learning magic."

Holly knew she would get tested if only to allow her to plan appropriately for learning to heal. If her results today meant she would need to wait until she was a little older, then Holly would learn everything she could before trying again when she reached thirteen. If the results hadn't changed then, and her core hadn't reached the acceptable level for healing, she would need to adjust her plan accordingly and find someone _who_ could.

He clapped his hands together loudly, making them jump in their seats, "we won't be testing your magical cores until the end of the session, and I still have much to go over today."

He proceeded to explain both the laws of magic and restrictions and the regulations set by the Ministry. From what Holly could see, magic had a wide range of possibility, and besides the limits that seemed set in stone, like returning someone to life. The only thing holding witches and wizards back was the lack of imagination of the wielders in question rather than magic. 

Professor Flamel touched on each of the laws, giving them time to write them down, before informing them they would review each one, not as an in-depth as he preferred but enough to help them have an understanding. The first law they started to study was The Rule of Creation; he provided textbooks for them to read and asked them to come up with examples of what the rule meant.

Holly scribbled down her notes, hating the awkwardness of using ink and a quill and that she kept smudging words and having to rewrite sentences so she could understand them. They asked questions and he answered patiently, and overall Professor Flamel gave a much nicer impression to the first-years attending the summer school and didn’t make them feel as though they were unworthy in any way. Eventually, it reached that time in the day where they were going to test their magical cores, and Holly couldn’t help but wonder what that entailed. Not that she had a chance to witness the test before her own, Professor Flamel called each student up individually and took them to the far side, just out of their line of sight. Holly studied the faces of each first-years that came and sat back down. None of them looked utterly deterred from the results, whatever they happened to be, though she could see Entwhistle mouth to Finch-Fletchley the word Amber.

Holly stood when the Professor called her name, and moved away from the desks, to where he was standing waiting for her, before he took her behind a privacy screen. 

“Miss Potter,” he greeted with a gentle smile. 

“Professor." 

"Do you wish to take the test?"

"I do Professor," Holly nodded firmly, refusing to allow the twisting ball of nerves in her stomach make her turn back now. 

His eyes softened a little as they met her gaze before he gave a nod. 

"Very well. The test is simple; all you need to do is take the cylinder and hold it in your wand hand. Your hand may feel warm, but that is normal. Do you have any questions?”

“No, sir,” she shook her head. 

“Shall we begin,” he held out the cylinder for her to take. 

Holly took the object off him, grateful that her hands weren't shaking. The item was a long thin cylinder, much like a wand, but rather than wood it was made of different metals though she only recognised the reddish-brown hue of copper. Holly held it in her right hand like she did her wand taking note of the glass sphere on one end of the sphere. 

She took a breath and waited patiently, ignoring the pounding beat of her heart. 

At first, nothing appeared to happen, and she couldn't help but look up in surprise at Professor Flamel, who gave her a reassuring smile. Holly felt foolish the longer she stood there waiting for something to happen until a warm sensation spread from her hand up her arm and through her; alive and energetic. Her magic, as it was the only possible explanation as to what it could be, thrummed and hummed. The sphere started to swirl with a sea of colours, and still her magic flooded through her. Holly smiled; it felt pure, and so much more. It was hers, her magic, and it felt perfect. Before long the cylinder began to vibrate in her hand, and the colours swirled faster and faster together, bleeding from one to the next to the next, making new colours as the seconds ticked by until finally, the vibrations stopped. Her magic lay quiet, and the sphere at the top of the cylinder was a solid colour.

Holly froze as she fixed her gaze on the sphere. 

Black. 

It was black. 

Holly looked up at Professor Flamel, who was studying both her and the sphere closely; he didn’t look surprised, merely pensive as though he was thinking long and hard at what this possible mean could. 

She licked her bottom lip, “Did I break it?”

Pale blue coloured eyes focused intently on her, a smile curled the edge of his mouth. 

“No, Miss Potter, you haven’t broken it. You appear to have an exceptionally strong magical core, unusual in one as young as you, but not unheard of. You are full of surprises, aren’t you?”

"Sir?" Holly frowned, more than capable of determining that Professor Flamel had just given her a half-truth. Though she couldn't say what he wasn't telling her or why. 

Swallowing the lump that had formed at the back of her throat, she returned to the others, her mind spinning at what it meant for her magical core to register as black. He had told them not to dwell on the outcome if they showed a light colour as there was room to grow and develop, but how could she grow from black if black was the strongest colour. What did that mean for her? It certainly negated her worry about not having a strong enough core to heal her parents, but something about Flamel's expression gnawed at the back of her mind, and she couldn't ignore it. She added it onto the list of things she needed to look into when she got to Hogwarts. There was no denying her list was growing. 

Holly only half paid attention as the last two students disappeared behind the screen, and before she knew it, Professor Flamel was dismissing them for the day, and they were making their way back towards the gates of Hogwarts where Benjamin was due to meet them. The others chatted around her cheerfully, laughing and joking with each other, and discussing in great length how Flamel was far better than Umbridge. Eventually, Entwhistle brought up their magical cores and announced proudly that he had registered as amber. One by one the others revealed the colour they registered, ranging from white to opal, though Granger had broken the record by registering as green.

“What about you Potter, you have been rather glum since you did your test, did you register as white?” Entwhistle asked, a teasing note to his voice. 

Holly threw him a look, she had the option of saying nothing, but got a distinct impression that Entwhistle wouldn’t let it go, and saying nothing could be equally a mistake as saying something. She had no intention of giving her real results; she had seen how the others had acted towards Granger who they considered the strongest amongst them followed by Thomas and Sloper as they registered as opal. Yet if she went too low they would see her as the weakest, and while Holly had little care for _their_ opinion of her, she knew how the pecking order in the playground often worked. So she opted for a safer option, choosing her colour carefully, without appearing to be on the top end of the scale amongst them. 

“Sky blue.”

“So why the long face, that is good standing.”

Benjamin saved her from responding as he greeted them with a grin at the gates. Taking their attention from her, Holly stayed silent and let her mind wander over to what it could mean for her magical core to register as black when by Flamel’s explanation she had yet to finish growing. 

* * *

Holly's first summer as a witch, or at least her first summer where she knew she was a witch, passed in a blink of an eye. Her mornings were filled with Umbridge and learning about Wizarding society. While they had to endure daily tests, and the disdain that Umbridge didn't even try and hide from them about their upbringing and family roots. Holly found the material interesting, it was clear even today that the war had left an impact on their world. 

They learnt about the pure-blood families and relations with magical creatures and the rest of the Wizarding world, Umbridge talked at length about the Minister of Magic, who Holly got the impression the woman was a little obsessed with. Lunch became less formal between them and more often or not resulted in them piling plates of food and taking it outside so they could enjoy the fresh air and exploring outdoors, where they crossed paths with more than one magical creature. Holly quickly formed an odd sort of friendship with Hagrid, the groundskeeper while she helped him with some of the smaller animals, and found that when it came to magical creatures, he was a wealth of information.

The afternoon sessions with Flamel were Holly's favourite. The wizard had a way of helping them understand the different laws of magic with practical demonstrations just as much with the theory, and it was enjoyable to see demonstrations of magic, even if she itched to try out spells herself. 

After the afternoon session finished at 4.30, they had a whole hour to themselves before they had to be back on the bus. Most often or not they explored Hogsmeade together and the different shops there, or had a butterbeer every Tuesday and Thursday when Madam Rosmerta allowed them into her inn. Holly couldn't say she was making friends with the other first-years but there was a comradeship between them. However, she was quick to realise that Granger, while incredibly intelligent, was quick to cut across others in her eagerness to prove she knew the answer and that she was right, not truly allowing others a chance to answer. 

Flamel was fair with whom he called upon to answer, ensuring he gave them all a chance to answer. Entwhistle was the loudest and more boisterous of the group and tended to show off in a different way than Granger did. Sloper kept to himself, making even her seem friendly. 

Holly's spent her evenings reading through her school books, and those extra ones she had bought in Diagon Alley, even adding a few from Hogsmeade and working on the equations with the strange symbols her mother had left her without much success.

Sooner than she expected it was the last day of summer school, they had taken their tests in the morning, and Professor Flamel handed the results out in the afternoon. Holly received an Exceeds Expectations for both her Wizard Studies and Beginners Guide to Magical Theory, and she was pleased that she had finally mastered writing with the quill and her writing to be eligible and without smudges.

With only a few days left before the 1st of September Holly was already missing Hogwarts as she returned to Number 4 Privet Drive on that final Friday, despite not stepping further into the castle than the Great Hall, and she couldn't wait until she could start properly. She had compiled a list of spells she wished to try. Despite her excitement, Holly couldn't ignore the results of her magical registration and what it meant, and she couldn't forget her mother's puzzle. Nor could she forget she would be entering Hogwarts with all the other students, some of them enemies purely for the beliefs they held about blood-status, and which side of the war they fought on, nor could she forget her goal to heal her parents. She was determined though she wouldn't let anything get in the way of her goals. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reference to the colours mentioned in this chapter is linked to The Black Jewels Trilogy by Anne Bishop though I have tweaked a little. 
> 
> I have always pictured Hogwarts to be a little bit bigger than how it was portrayed in the books but not as large as it could be as the magical world seems to be on the decline. That being said I am picturing around 70-100 students a year though not necessarily an even split between houses (and some years there will be less)- but it works out roughly as at the top end 25 per year being 175 students per house. However taking into account the war would mean less students. So Harry's year would be smaller as well. 
> 
> Some of the names I have used for 'students' can be found on Harry Potter wiki - as well as some of my own making. Now while there will be original characters in this story, I am going to ensure that they are only used sparingly and for an actual purpose rather than merely filling the story full of names that hold no significance. 
> 
> Nicolas Flamel - I never pictured him in my head how he was portrayed in Fantastic Beasts Crimes of Grindelwald - so he will be a bit different.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for everyone who has read and commented my story so far, thank you to those who have added to bookmarks and kudos. 
> 
> I have had some technical difficulties with my laptop and it has essentially died but I have been able to convert this chapter into something workable in order to allow me to upload, but that is the reason for the delay. I'm not sure when the next chapter will be posted. I am working on sorting out a replacement and I am hoping to work on something temporary. 
> 
> All mistakes are my own, I hope you enjoy the next chapter.

**Chapter 3:-**

"Well, there you are, girl. Platform nine - platform ten. Your platform should be somewhere in the middle, but they don't seem to have built it yet, do they?"

Uncle Vernon smiled at her. Holly would go as far to say it was a manic kind of smile, twisted and gleeful over someone else's misfortune. She had hated that smile over the years, but today she had little desire to acknowledge it or the fact her uncle was still talking to her. 

"We don't want you back over the holidays, do you hear me?"

"Yes," she answered, wishing at times she could ignore him completely but not responding would cause more trouble than it was worth. 

"Have a good term," he laughed, "if you get there," he added as he walked away, leaving her alone in front of the two plastic signs between platforms. 

She wasn't concerned or worried. Summer school had discussed platform nine and three quarters at some length when talking about wizarding Britain. They had discussed about oblivators and charms that made things less than noticeable by muggles. Holly relaxed a little, letting her eyes wander, looking at the cracks, at the corner and seeing beyond what she first expected to see. It was almost like a 'something out the corner of her eye' lifted, and she could see the mismatched clothes on people, a dressing gown as a coat, slippers as shoes, men's shoes on women's feet and then there were those that didn't even try and blend, dressed in robes. Or the luggage with cats and owls. With a small smile, she muttered, "Idiot", to herself before pushing her trolley towards the barrier and slipped through unseen by those around her, until she came out on the other side.

Stepping out the other side Holly couldn't help but gape in wonder. 

A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. Holly gripped her wand concealed in her pocket, close to her hip, not that the measly knowledge she had of the spells that she had gotten to work would be much use to her, but its presence offered her a sense of security and comfort Holly hadn't realised she had needed until it had been there. A reminder that she was not without her defences. Not that she would be able to stand against any true threat that may come her way. _Not yet at least._

Holly had studied outside of summer school, and the topics discussed there, she devoured all the books she had bought and had even treated herself to some extra books from Tomes and Scrolls when they had time to themselves at Hogsmeade. She had learnt, and she had discovered far more about the War than Professor McGonagall, or even Umbridge had ever discussed. Holly had signed up for a subscription from the Daily Prophet that would keep her well informed with the goings-on of the Wizarding World, but it had also allowed her to request old papers during the time of the War. A War that had changed her life forever, and the lives of many others. She hadn't lived in the Wizarding World in the years that followed the supposed end, but she needed the information around that time, just as she needed the information during the War. Holly now knew more about her parents and the Potters than she had ever done so before, it also provided information on the Lestranges, Crouch Jr and Black. It speculated what had happened the night Voldemort; Holly refused to fear his name, had been defeated. Though Holly couldn't help but shake the feeling that defeated was too broad of a term - it didn't mean killed, but it was clear he had disappeared that night. 

She had learnt about Death Eaters crimes, punishments and who had claimed to be under a Curse and had no control over their actions. 

Holly learnt every name of every potential enemy to her, her plans and her parents. The War may have ended almost ten years ago, but that didn't mean that the ideals and beliefs of his followers had just disappeared. Far more likely that they were whispered in the dark waiting to see the light of day again. And Holly would be ready should that happen. Would be prepared should anything interfere with her plans in finding a cure for her parents.

Few people noticed her as she wove in and out of the crowds, but then a lone figure in a sea of people was far easier to slip unnoticed past people. The train was quieter than the platform, and she was grateful to find an empty compartment at the back of the train, out of the way of everyone. Holly sank into the seat with a sigh of relief when she had finally secured her trunk in place; two books lay next to her and a small journal and pen. She was used to using a quill now, but the idea of jotting any notes down on a moving train with a bottle of ink didn't appeal to her, a simple muggle pen would suit for the train journey. Tucking her feet under her, she picked up her book, An Introduction to the Human Anatomy, and started reading. 

She needed to learn everything she could about the human body in a general sense before she could start understanding how magic interacted with the body, and how you could heal the body with magic. Not to mention she needed a better understanding of the curse used on her parents in the first place. 

The Cruciatus Curse. 

Holly doubted she would be able to find much information on her own to begin with, which was why she was leaving it as her third priority on the list in respect to healing her parents. First, she needed the understanding of the human body that went beyond the mere basics that her primary school teacher taught her. 

_Baby steps,_ she wasn't likely to find the answers she was seeking by the time she reached Hogwarts. She needed patience. Thankfully living with the Dursley's had resulted in her learning the art of patience. 

Scribbling a few notes down in her journal, Holly found herself engrossed in her task at hand that she barely noticed the train moving, as her mind attempted to make sense of the text that she was absorbing with every breath. 

* * *

Draco's cheeks burned as he left the compartment that contained the Boy-Who-Lived, some Muggle-born 'know it all', and the Weasel. He had done what his father asked, extending his hand in friendship, offering Longbottom friends with the right sort of wizards only for his offer to be disregarded, and for him to be humiliated by a damned rat of all things. Not to mention, all Longbottom seemed to be worried about was his missing toad. Honestly, who would have a toad as a pet? The boy was nothing like what Draco expected, and he was sure once he wrote to his father explaining that Longbottom didn't appear to be that special, he seemed quite ordinary, and then the fact he had should be forgiven. After all, it was only befitting that a Malfoy associated with the powerful. Yet he couldn't help but shake that sliver of fear knowing he failed his father. Something that was not acceptable. 

Draco rubbed his forehead as he walked back to his compartment. More than aware of the growing headache as magic hummed and sang around him. Filling the air with vibrations that he, like all properly trained Malfoy's, could sense. He had been expecting this level of intensity at Hogwarts surrounded by the students and Professors in a castle that's foundations was built on magic, he hadn't expected this level of intensity on the train. He would have to put more effort into the shields his mother had taught him before he got to Hogwarts; otherwise, he was quite sure it would drive him insane. And that was not acceptable of a Malfoy. 

Yet the more he turned his attention to the magic, the more he listened to its song, the louder it was getting, the vibrations more intense until it sounded more like a roar than a hum, with every step he took. Draco frowned as he glanced around the corridor, only Crabbe and Goyle were standing by him, and their magic barely caused a stir, which meant whatever or whoever the source was, was coming from one of the compartments within this particular carriage. With a wary curiosity Draco glanced in at each compartment, fifth years, third years, seventh years and while he couldn't deny that they could be the potential source something inside of him said it wasn't. Draco carried on, stepped from one carriage to the next until he froze. 

The air was thick and heavy with magic, and it made his bones aches. There was a sharpness to it like he suddenly had razor-sharp knives pressed to his skin in warning that one false move could and would be fatal. Crabbe and Goyle tensed beside him, while not as sensitive as he was to magic, they would need to be a muggle to not sense the magic in the air and even then Draco was confident they would feel something. He peered into the carriage, the magic pressed harder against his skin, a clear message that whoever was in this compartment wanted to be left alone, he saw a lone girl with dark hair sitting reading a book, her school robes were void of any House colours that told him she was a first-year like him. However, glasses obscured her face so he couldn't get a good look, but she appeared to be oblivious to everything but the book she was reading. Draco was surprised that nobody else was in the compartment, but from the sheer weight of magic and the bite, it carried the other students would have instinctively avoided it without even knowing why. There was probably some like himself that could sense and recognise powerful magic that would have been curious, but like him, they would have read the message loud and clear not to disturb this compartment. And for all his curiosity about this powerful witch who made the air sing with pure magic Draco wasn't stupid enough to ignore the warning signs. Not when the magic was threatening to pierce his skin, and the girl's attention wasn't on him. 

He would merely have to wait until they arrived at Hogwarts and hoped that the girl would sort into the Slytherin House. Draco smiled to himself; he may have failed at befriending the Boy-Who-Lived as his father had instructed, but he had found a witch that would more than makeup for that failure. Something he was sure his father would approve. 

Turning from the compartment, he continued down the corridor, making his way towards his compartment. His step considerably lighter than it had been upon leaving the Boy-Who-Lived and his cheeks no longer burned from embarrassment; instead his mind turned and turned _just who was that witch, and which Noble House did she belong to_?

* * *

"Firs'-years! Firs'-years over here!"

Holly spotted Hagrid calling to the first-years and waving an equally huge lantern. Holly ignored all the children around her; she ignored their bumbling forms as they spoke with one another, jostling for position amongst the crowds as they followed Hagrid down from the train to what appeared to be boats on a lake.

She ended up sharing with a blonde-haired girl whose blue eyes pierced her sharply when she looked at her, a tall boy with rich black skin and even darker eyes that looked sombre and a smiling blonde-haired boy, who offered polite hello's but said little else. No one seemed eager to break the ice between them, and so they sat in silence as the boats bobbed forward along the lake. 

Holly gaped along with the others when the boat sailed around a corner and Hogwarts came into view. Seeing it at night was far different from seeing the castle during her time at summer school, and from her point of view on the lake it looked even grander than it had then. It was at that moment that Holly fell in love for the first time. It shone, Holly thought, a beacon in the dark. A symbol of strength and hope. Holly could understand at that moment why Voldemort had never dared attack it during the war. He would have been foolish to do so. It would have cost him, and so it remained a sanctuary in a time of war. Untouchable by outside evil, perched atop a high mountain, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, with many turrets and towers. It signalled possibilities, at least to her, a place she could explore those possibilities, to grow and learn as much as she could. 

It was beautiful. 

"Yes, it is." A voice agreed beside her. Holly turned to look at the boy who had spoken, realising that she had perhaps voiced that particular opinion out loud. 

The tall, dark-haired boy looked at her before speaking again, "Blaise Zabini," he introduced.

"Holly Potter," she answered after a moment. 

She caught his eyes widening in recognition, but he made no further comment, it was something she could appreciate whether it was done out of consideration for her or just because he had nothing else to say. It was an unnerving thought really, the idea of other people knowing about her family's circumstances. 

Holly didn't like it, but there was nothing she could do to change it either, all she could do was accept whatever anyone decided to throw at her in regards to her circumstances and hit back hard should anyone desire to hurt her with it.

"As beautiful as it is if you continue to gap like a fish people will start to think you are an uneducated commoner before you even enter its halls," the girl stated. Holly couldn't hear any malice in her tone, couldn't hear the underline, _I think you are a commoner,_ but she could hear the warning. A sign that she was behaving unseemly and doing so will hurt her. Unless she was a commoner, then it mattered very little. 

Holly wasn't sure how she was able to read all that was unsaid, but she knew with a certainty that the girl had been trying to portray precisely that message even if it was with a somewhat bored and disinterested tone.

"Daphne, don't be rude," Zabini chided with a smile, a smile that carried with it a certain amount of affection. 

"I wasn't. I was merely pointing out; she shouldn't gape like a fish," _Daphne_ , pointed out, giving Zabini a look before fixing her attention back to her, "Daphne Greengrass."

Holly nodded politely. 

The reaming boy, merely nodded his head muttering "Anthony Goldstein."

None of them had attended Summer School, she would have remembered their names, but nor were they names that appeared to have associated with Voldemort. 

They remained silent as they ducked under a curtain of ivy as the boats carried them through an opening in the cliff face. They continued along a dark tunnel which seemed to be taking them right under the castle until they reached an underground harbour, where they clambered out on to the rocks and pebbles.

There was a tension on the air, nervous excitement that wired through everyone. Holly could feel her stomach-turning, and yet it felt as if she was coming home for the first time, she had missed Hogwarts more than she realised. They followed the light of the giant's lamp up a passageway before coming out at least onto the smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle. They walked up the flight of stone steps and crowded around the massive oak front door where the giant knocked three times on the castle door. The door swung open almost at once, and Holly saw Professor McGonagall standing there waiting for them. Holly felt her shoulders ease as she saw a familiar face and sight of the castle. The tension she hadn't realised she had been feeling slipping away. 

"The firs'-years, Professor McGonagall," the giant greeted. 

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

Hagrid left them to follow Professor McGonagall into the castle.

The Entrance Hall was different at night, the lit flames casting a warm, welcoming glow over the stone walls and she could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from the doorway that led to the Great Hall, and Holly felt her nerves flutter like butterflies. Steeling herself for whatever was to come and determined that no matter what happened, she would not fail. Holly listened with the other students as Professor McGonagall welcomed them to Hogwarts and explained that the start of term banquet would begin as soon as they were sorted into their houses. She went further to define the four Houses in Hogwarts and the points system that seemed to play an important part, along with the emphasis that their House would be their family. The moment she left the small chamber they had all been gathered in the nervous whispers Holly as her fellow students swapped wild theories on the Sorting. One thing became clear at least in Holly's opinion was that no one had a clear idea of what happened, as the possibilities ranged from 'wrestling trolls' and 'testing one's spell ability'. It was something that they had never discussed in Summer School, and Holly could only presume it was a secret soaked in a tradition that they didn't discover until the night they entered Hogwarts as a student.

Holly could even hear the familiar voice of Granger muttering under her breath all the spells she could think of that she might need to perform. Holly hadn't given much thought into the Houses and which she felt like she belonged. Her parents had been in Gryffindor, but Holly wasn't sure that the house of the noble and brave suited her though it would be nice to be in the same house that her parents had been in.

A scream cut through her trail of thought and Holly blinked in surprise as what seemed to be twenty-ghosts streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to each other, hardly looking at the first years. 

They seemed to be arguing. 

Until one of them noticed the first-years, all staring up wide-eyed at them. 

"New students!" 

No sooner had they greeted them, wishing them good luck and desire to see them in their former house until the sharp voice of Professor McGonagall cut across them.

"The Sorting Ceremony is about to start. Form a line and follow me."

One by one, they formed a line until Professor McGonagall was satisfied and led them into the Great Hall. The Great Hall took Holly's breath away much like seeing the Castle again, seeing the Great Hall now full of children it seemed beautiful and so different from the space she had spent attending Summer School. Lit by thousands and thousands of candles which were floating in mid-air over four long tables where the rest of the students were sitting. Holly was aware of hundreds of eyes on her, of course, they weren't on her alone, but as a collective whole, the older students watched the new first years as they walked past before stopping in front of another long table where the teachers sat. It was here where Professor McGonagall silently placed a three-legged stool in the centre and what looked to be an old looking hat on top of it. Holly blinked in surprise. She certainly hadn't been expecting that, and while she had read Hogwarts a History, she couldn't recall anything about a hat. And then suddenly that hat twitched, and a rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat began to sing. 

* * *

Minerva took the time to steel herself during the Sorting Hat's song. She had lost count how many Sorting Ceremony's she had taken part in and yet still her hands shook, something she had told herself sternly was entirely unsuitable for her age. And yet as she glanced at this batch of first-years before she couldn't help but feel that something was different. She had seen Holly amongst the others, looking far to calm in comparison to the other eleven-year-olds. The only one that seemed to match her lack of concern was the tall, dark-haired, standing next to her. Zabini. He looked like his mother and Minerva expected nothing less from the 'Black Widow's' son. There was another Weasley this year too, and a Malfoy and a Nott, not to mention the Boy-Who-Lived. 

There was no denying that this year group would be an interesting lot and yet it was perhaps because of that she was most apprehensive about it. Minerva was grateful though when it finally came to calling the first name out she was able to say it without her nerves showing. 

"Abbott, Hannah,"

The blonde-haired pig-tailed girl stumbled out of the line and put the hat on was somewhat predictable, but Minerva still smiled warmly when the hat shouted out 'Hufflepuff!' allowing a brief moment of cheers and applauds before continuing with the next name. 

"Bones, Susan,"

One by one, she stood back and watched them come up and place the sorting hat onto their heads. Minerva could see who was nervous and needed that extra reassurance, with a comforting smile. She smiled when the Brown girl became her first Gryffindor. The rest of the Sorting hustled past as she worked her way down the list, there was one girl that seemed to take the longest before the hat finally cried 'Gryffindor' and she mentally noted to keep an eye on the girl to ensure she settled into the House. 

The H's passed, followed by the I's, J's, and K's until she finally called her second most awaited name on the list. A name that everyone was more than eager to see sorted. Out the corner of her eye, she saw Albus sit up that little straighter as his whole attention fixed onto "Longbottom, Neville".

The rest of the hall reacted almost as one to the name, whispers stirring through the hall with a buzz, and soon Neville Longbottom was stepping forward, almost nervously. 

" _That's him_ , The Neville Longbottom?"

"He looks so pale."

"I thought he would be taller."

She felt sorry for him as he almost jogged up to the stool, carrying the weight of other people's expectations on his shoulders. Everyone had an idea of who and what the Boy-Who-Lived would be like, and Minerva often noted that people very rarely met those expectations placed upon them. Neville certainly had his father's eyes, but it was with his mother's round face, soft features that hadn't yet lost the baby fat and ears that were a little too big for his face. He would grow into his features or he wouldn't, but only time would determine that fact. 

The hall waited eagerly as the hat took its time on the boy's head, and it did take its time. Minerva could see his fist curled tense by his sides as he deliberated with the hat, _she_ knew where the boy wanted to go, she knew how strong- _willed_ Augusta’s was. Anything but Gryffindor would be unacceptable in her eyes. The House, her son, had been in, the House that the Boy Who Lived _should_ belong. Minerva might have a bias towards her own House, but she was neither blind nor stupid to how others perceived the House of Lions. The House of Heroes, the Golden Children, the House the Light shone the brightest. The expectation that Neville would be a Gryffindor would have carried extra weight, especially if he was more suited to another House. She would need to keep an eye on the boy regardless of whether he ended up in her House or not. 

The hat was taking even longer to decide than it had with the Granger girl, and then the hat finally shouted "Gryffindor", and her House erupted in cheers and the boy smiled as he took the hat off his head and walked towards his table. She could see the tension ease from his shoulders ever so slightly showing to her just how tense he had been. Minerva saw again out the corner of her eye Albus relax ever so slightly, at the result as he eased back into his chair, but her attention was soon back on the list as she called the next name, and the next. 

Until finally, she called the name that she had been most eager to sort. Minerva found herself staring like an anxious parent herself when the hat lowered over Holly Potter's head, hoping that she was at least wrong in her assessment and that Holly Potter would indeed be sorted into Gryffindor.

* * *

Holly was aware of the eyes of the other students on her as the Sorting Hat slipped over her head. 

It wasn't with the same interest the _Boy-Who-Lived received_ ; thankfully, it was still a little more interest than the other first-years had. But she was the other half of the equation of what happened the night they proclaimed Neville a hero, and the war ended. They may not see her as their saviour, but she _was there_ that night. The only other one besides Neville that others would be able to question. 

Holly shuffled slightly on the stool under the weight before she caught herself and forced herself to stay still. The attention of any sort was not a good thing. The Dursleys hated her, bringing any more attention to herself than necessary. Still, they hated the fact she existed, gaining attention from others grated merely on their nerves that little extra. 

_Ah, Miss Potter, quite the mind you have here. Quite the ambition._

Holly was glad she didn't jump the moment the voice echoed in her mind, of course, the hat would be able to read minds as well as being able to talk, and wasn't that an unnerving thought, it would know her desires, her goals, everything instantly. 

A chuckle filled her ears. 

_I can't tell you whether you will be successful in your quest; it is not my job to tell you what you can or cannot achieve. I can tell you I have looked in many young minds, and some of them have wanted to do impossible things, and they have succeeded. I can tell you that everything depends on you._

_I won't fail_ ; she answered honestly. And she wouldn't, no matter how long it took she would not fail to heal her parents. 

She felt the hat smile at her, or at least it felt like a smile in her mind before it murmured to her, _and there is a part of your soul bare for all to see should they wish to take the time to see it. Your determination, your drive burns through you like molten. I fear the day it erupts._

_Why?_

_I see far more than what you want to do Miss Potter. I know what you are._

_And what am I?_ She asked hesitantly, not sure she wanted the answer. 

_A rarity,_ the hat chuckled _, now Hufflepuff is out as is Gryffindor, while I cannot deny you have the potential to be loyal you have never had anybody to be loyal to. And you are brave; never doubt that for a moment, but neither House would not suit your more private nature. Which brings us Slytherin and Ravenclaw?_

_Are you asking for my opinion?_

_Shhh, I'm thinking. I cannot deny you're ambitious; there aren't many that have already set their goals before them no matter how impossible the road ahead of them may be, not to mention your thirst to prove yourself, my, my that is interesting._

Holly snorted at the thought.

_You have a...hunger for knowledge, but I see that it is purely for you to understand the world to defend yourself from threats that would otherwise hurt you, I believe the best place for you is…_ " SLYTHERIN."

The house closest to the wall on the left cheered and applauded politely, but she didn't pay it any attention as the Hat whispered parting words, _the path you chose tether's on the edge of a line, stray but a little and you will fall, and all will be lost. Noble a course to heal your parents yet your thirst for vengeance drives you equally, and it is that drive that puts you at risk. Only you can choose which path you will walk. One must be careful Miss Potter when fighting monsters lest they become a monster. And if thou gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will also gaze into thee. I fear the potential inside of you, Miss Potter, even as I rejoice at the potential._

Holly had no time to ask further questions as she rose calmly, well aware that Professor McGonagall was waiting for her to return the hat. Carefully removing the hat, she handed it back Professor McGonagall before turning towards the politely clapping table. As she walked towards the green and silver coloured table, Holly was aware that her robes changed to match the House colours she now belonged to. The weight of curious gazes pressed against her skin. Holly ensured she kept her shoulders straight and her expression civil as she moved towards the end of the table, where she could see already sorted first-years sitting. Her gaze fell onto Daphne Greengrass, who shuffled to make room for her, though if Holly hadn't been looking at her directly, she would have missed it. Holly took her seat next to Greengrass, nodding politely in greeting to the other first years in return, silently repeating words that had come to mean so much to her.

_Never flinch._

_Never fear._

_Never forget._

Holly knew firsthand how quickly children could seek out the weaknesses in others, and if any of them were like Dudley, she wouldn't give them an advantage over her any more than they already had by knowing about the Wizarding World. Holly turned her attention towards the remaining students; a couple more followed her to the Slytherin table, while others split between the other three schoolhouses, and before long Blaise Zabini was the last student to be called and was promptly sorted into Slytherin. Holly clapped alongside the other Slytherins and offered a welcoming smile as he took a seat directly opposite her. Professor McGonagall took the Sorting Hat and stool away, and behind her, a man in purple robes rose to his feet, drawing everyone's attention his way.

"Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts!" he said, "Before we begin our banquet I would like to say a few words. And they are Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you."

He sat back down as the older students clapped and cheered. Holly blinked in surprise at the man though from the looks her fellow first years were also giving him she was not alone.

"Yes, he is quite mad," an older student said, before anyone else spoke, though the way the girl's eyes were looking at the first years, it was clear that it was them she was talking to, "But nobody can deny he is powerful. Welcome to Slytherin, my name is Gemma Farley, tuck in everyone."

Holly blinked her attention caught by the abundant amount of food piled high on golden plates. Plates that had only moments ago been empty. An array of mouth-watering meats, a mixture of herbed butter potatoes, a variety of vegetables, soups, side dishes, vegetarian options and several delicacies Holly had never seen before. Not to mention the beautifully presented puddings that would have had Dudley's mouth-watering despite the presence of magic. Holly unfolded her napkin before placing it on her lap before reaching for the mashed potato and placing a spoonful onto her plate, adding a chicken drumstick and a spoonful of vegetables. She was eager to try many of the foods before her; she didn't fancy the idea of eating until she was sick. She wasn't used to eating much more than what she had already placed on her plate and poured herself a pumpkin juice, enjoying the sweetness a little more than she had when she first tried it, the drink was growing on her. 

"So Slytherin then?" Zabini asked quietly.

An eyebrow rose. "You seem surprised."

"No, not surprised, just curious. I couldn't place you, which is unusual. I'm normally better at reading people."

Holly studied him over the rim of her goblet, dark brown eyes curiously fixed their gaze on her. 

"Don't sound too disappointed."

Zabini's lips turned into a sly smile, "I wouldn't say I am disappointed, I would say I'm intrigued. You're like a new puzzle to work out."

Inwardly Holly winced; she didn't want to be a puzzle. Puzzle meant Zabini would pay more attention to her than she liked and Holly didn't want any attention on her if she could help it.

"You are going to be disappointed. I'm not interesting."

"I don't think I will be. See, already you are trying to tell me nothing is interesting about you which means there is."

"I don't think it works like that," Holly snorted. 

“You would be surprised, Potter.”

“Holly,” she said softly, letting their gazes meet and refusing to flinch under the intensity of Zabini’s eyes. 

“Holly,” Zabini repeated, “Blaise.”

Holly nodded her head in acceptance before turning her attention back to her dinner, finishing quietly. The other children chatted amongst themselves though Holly wasn’t able to completely ignore the scrutinising gaze a blonde boy kept sending her way whenever he thought he she wasn't looking. Nor could she ignore the glances out the corner of Greengrass’ eye whenever Holly moved, it was almost as if they were playing to a tune Holly couldn’t hear or even know about but seemed to connect them all into an intricate system that she hadn’t grown up with. A system that Holly didn’t know the rules for. But she would learn, Holly always learnt.

By the time everyone finished eating it was late, and Holly was more than ready for to go to sleep, though it appeared that Dumbledore had other ideas as he once again rose from his seat and a more sombre silence fell across the hall. Holly listened with half an ear to his speech until her attention caught about the warning of the third corridor and painful death. Surely that wasn’t right, but from the wary looks that crossed the older students' faces, it was. 

He dismissed them with orders for bed, older students with glistening badges that declared ‘Prefect’ gathered the first year Slytherins and herded them out of the Great Hall and across the Entrance Hall. The older years followed behind them at a more leisurely pace to round anyone who dared fall behind. Half the school ascended the Grand Staircase while the Slytherins and Holly noted the Hufflepuffs descended the set of stairs directly opposite the Great Hall before the Hufflepuffs splintered off left at a lower corridor. The Slytherins continued further down into the underbelly of the castle. Holly couldn’t help but shiver as the cold crept around her the further down they went until eventually the prefects leading them drew to a stop.

Gemma Farley stepped turned to address them. 

"Welcome first year Slytherins, my name is Gemma Farley, and I am a fifth-year prefect. As you can see, our common room is in the dungeons. No one outside the Slytherin House knows where the entrance is. We don't expect you to be able to find it on your own for a few weeks because it just looks like an empty stretch of wall, so follow an older Slytherin until you are more familiar with your way around."

"Don't be too proud to ask for help either," another prefect added, "We have all had to do the same thing when we were first-years. Slytherin prides itself on looking after its own, we don't expect you to figure everything out on your own like a Ravenclaw, you are first years, and there is a lot you need to learn. On the other hand, if you want help, you have to ask, and don't expect it to be free."

"The password is Aapep," Farley said, standing to one side as the wall slid open letting warm air from the Common Room waft out into the corridor. The moved inside where the prefects herded them over to one of the crackling fires. Holly could feel the heat creep across her skin.

The common room was very dark, with the torches and the flickering flames from the fires casting eerie shadows over every surface. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the lighting, but once they did, Holly could see it was quite elegant. None of the furniture was cluttered together giving plenty of space between each area though the corners were kept clear, it would be tough to find somewhere to go unnoticed entirely. There were tables for working in groups here and there and several different hallways leading off from the main room. The windows were black at the moment though she suspected it would be more water than daylight that would be visible through them. A large notice board was on the wall near the entrance, and she noted a few bookcases full of books.

"The password changes fortnightly and will be posted on the notice board so please pay attention. Other criteria such as clubs and activities you can participate in can also be found here along with any announcements that you need to be aware of," the Farley continued as she followed them, "To be Slytherin is to be great. Salazar Slytherin looked for the seeds of greatness in his chosen students. We are the house of the ambitious. Each one of you has the potential inside of you to be great, Slytherin will help you find the power within yourself to achieve your ambitions, to use your cunning and strengthen your abilities."

"House Slytherin for the last five years has maintained a perfect record with the highest number of house points scored throughout the year and has won both the House Cup and the Quidditch Cup, and it is a streak we will continue," the prefect by Farley’s side stated.

"As already mentioned, we look out for our own. The corridors of Hogwarts can throw up surprises for the unwary, and you'll be glad you've got the Serpents on your side as you move around the school. This brings us to the first rule of the Slytherin House. Your house is your family. Family stands together, as far as we are concerned as a member of this house - you are a family," Farley murmured, her voice carrying through the room.

"The Common Room does not belong to you; you are no longer at home and the apple of your parent's eyes. Respect that it belongs to everyone and keep it neat. Our Head of House Professor Snape has detentions designed to enforce this rule. Remember this rule," another prefect added with a smirk that said he would enjoy the idea of someone breaking that rule.

Farley shot him a look before taking the stage once again, "Arguments with another Slytherin only happen in the Slytherin House. Outside these walls we are united, we give no one any weakness to use against us."

"Greatness is expected of us, by ourselves, our families, our Head of House, and our Headmaster. But greatness does not come easy. Study time is mandatory, once again if you do not understand then seek help, but remember little snakes, Slytherins despise the free lunch. Nothing is free," the boy added.

"Tomorrow morning before the beginning of the first lesson you will receive your timetable I suggest you all rest before your first day. I guarantee you will need your energy," Farley continued, "Girls are on the left and boys are on the right. Oh, and boys, I wouldn't suggest trying to enter the girl's dormitories. You won't like the consequences. Good night."

Holly followed the others down the hallway tiredly until she found her dormitory, 'Holly Potter', written below 'Millicent Bulstrode', 'Tracy Davies', 'Daphne Greengrass', and 'Pansy Parkinson'. She pushed the door open, making a bee-line towards the bed that had her trunk at the foot of it. Silently Holly changed and was grateful that her housemates followed suit, while Holly knew she would have to talk to them eventually but didn't feel up to it tonight. She slipped under the covers of her bed and stared up at the canopy and waited. Holly felt uneasy about sharing a room with four other people and knew it would take some time for her to adjust to her new surroundings. So she waited and listened to her dormmates; slowly one by one, she could hear the breathing shift as they fell asleep.

* * *

Severus returned to his private quarters in Hogwarts just after two in the morning. He immediately went to his liquor cabinet and selected the strongest bottle of whiskey he had. His thoughts twisted about, as he settled into his favourite chair, finding paths to old memories he had long thought buried. Memories of less difficult days, when enemies meant jibes and pranks and the war was happening outside the walls of Hogwarts and seemed so far away. Until it wasn’t far away, and he was walking on a path, he truly believed in, but descending further down a hole than even he had realised. Until there was blood on his hands and death on his tongue and pain forever etched into his soul. 

Four horrendous years he would forever spend atoning for, and even then it would never be enough. 

Where it had been his actions, his own words that had sealed the fate of a person he loved, without him even realising it. Severus wasn’t sure what he would have done had the Dark Lord voiced his plan to take out both families that were threats. Would he have acted differently? Would he have spoken out to protect the only person he loved? In the dead hours of darkness, he liked to think he would, imagined himself to be the hero in that particular tale that swooped in to save the day. But he was no hero, and the Dark Lord hadn’t shared his plans instead had appeared to focus solely on the Longbottom boy, because surely it would be a boy who would be the threat to him. So he had stayed silent, because what did it matter to him if the Dark Lord destroyed any danger to his reign. Severus should have _known_ that should the opportunity present itself _he_ would have taken out both families in one go and of course, the opportunity had presented itself because they were none the wiser of the threat that loomed over them. 

And what resulted that night two dead adults, _his_ _Lily_ and _Potter_ tortured to insanity and two children left parentless. 

So began his penance. Ten long years where he existed in a state of merely living and doing everything he could to forget while dreading the year where he would have to come face to face with his failure. 

And now it was here. 

He dreaded the echoes he would see when he looked at _Lily’s child_. Severus had caught sight of the unruly Potter hair and had looked away in disgust. A living breathing reminder of _his failure_ , his torture for the next seven years. It was no more than he deserved. But other than the classes he would have to teach, and the reminder of what he had lost, she was not the child he was required to protect. Severus had hoped he would be able to minimise the amount of contact he had to have with the child, except rather than Gryffindor he would have bet money on her going to, instead, she was sorted into his house. To Slytherin. 

He had looked at her then surprised by what he saw. He expected her to be a mirror of her parents, but instead, there was only a vague resemblance of Potter and Lily. The unruly Potter hair was there, and the greenness of her mother’s eyes, but that was where the similarities ended. She had none of her mother’s softness, none of the warmth that had emanated around Lily. He couldn’t see her father’s arrogance, his confidence of his place in the world. Instead, he saw a razor-sharp coldness that threatened to cut anyone who got to close. An open fascination as her eyes swept across the room, but her gaze was hard and closed off from the bright spark that had filled her mother’s eyes, even on the darkest days during the war absent.

She wasn’t a mirror image of her parents. Severus wasn’t sure whether he was relieved by the fact or angered that he was denied even that of Lily. With the green and silver tie around her neck, he couldn’t help but wonder whether Potter would be outraged at such a thing if Potter had the capability of being outraged by anything in his current state. Severus wasn’t sure how to take her Sorting. She fell under his responsibility more than he would have liked the child of his nemesis and his fallen love to do. Though he supposed it was a sign that if Potter, a family that prided itself on belonging to the Light, was sorted into Slytherin, then Slytherin wasn’t as bad as everyone made it out to be. But he also knew that nothing good lasted in Slytherins hands. The Dark had enticed him. It wouldn’t be easy on her. 

As he poured himself his third drink, Severus wished that this year hadn’t arrived. He hoped that it was still a distant possibility and that it hadn’t come. But then time always had a way of catching up with you, whether you wanted it to or not.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to every one who has read and reviewed this story, along with adding to alerts and favourites. It has been a while and for that I can only apologise for. Real life took over, though I did eventually get a new laptop.
> 
> I hope you all had a lovely holiday, and while not quite what we were expecting for this time of year that you were able to stay safe and still have a nice time.
> 
> Some of this chapter has been reworked from my previous story that I have since taken down so maybe familiar to some of you.
> 
> All mistakes are mine and mine alone, but hopefully there won't be too many.
> 
> Please enjoy.

**Chapter 4 ******

****  
** **

Holly shifted from slumber to alertness as she registered sound. She paused, waiting for the familiar rattle of the cupboard door, accompanied by the order to get up and cook breakfast.

It never came.

Holly frowned as she opened her eyes, muscles relaxing as her conscious caught up to the world around her and the sounds registered for what they were. Hogwarts, she was at Hogwarts. The move from her cupboard, to Dudley's second bedroom, hadn't prepared her for sharing a room with other people. Thick heavy drapes, in dark green, hung around the four-poster bed which she had drawn shut the night before. They did nothing to block the fact that she wasn't alone. An experience that was both new and strange, and for far different reasons compared to the mumbled complaints from one of the other girls last night. It would take some getting used to.

Holly took a moment and peered at the canopy overhead. She listened to the noises of the other girls before she sat up and pulled back the curtains. She shuffled to the side of the bed, and let her feet touch the floor, toes curling as soon as they touched the cold stone floor.

Nobody else was awake. It gave her the opportunity to get ready in peace. Holly rose and walked to her trunk at the foot of her bed and opened it. It didn't take her long to gather her wash bag, towel, school robes, and clean underwear. No windows graced the walls, but Holly noted the alcoves stretched upwards, and appeared to give a greenish light that filled the room enough to see her surroundings. A small bedside cabinet sat to the left of her bed, comprising of three draws and a personal lamp. A board framed the bed. To the right, there was a wooden chair and a chest of drawers.

Holly stepped into the shared bathroom and closed the door behind her. Holly took advantage of being the first awake and relished in a hot shower. Showers had always been relaxing, and she treasured every second she could under the scorching water. Once she finished, she gave it a quick clean before she cleaned her teeth, braided her hair and dressed in her school uniform.

Holly steeled herself for the day ahead, taking a deep breath, before re-entering the dorm room where an impatient growl greeted her before a body shoved past her.

"You took forever," the girl said, before shutting the door behind her, with more force than needed. 

Holly blinked in surprise before turning to see the others were in various states of waking.

"I didn't wake you, did I?" Holly could hear the uncertainty lacing her voice. Conversation was a concept she hadn't had to deal with before. At least not outside of people throwing insults.

"No, you didn't," Greengrass said, her gaze softening as she glanced at her. "And don't mind Parkinson, she isn't a morning person."

Holly wasn't sure how to respond. She smiled a little as she made her way back to her bed, between Greengrass' and Bulstrode's. Hanging her towel over the canopy to dry before she would return it to her trunk. She caught the amused glance Greengrass threw her, but the girl didn't comment any further. Holly put her wash bag back into her trunk before getting a few things ready near the top she knew she would need for the day.

Not confident to venture out to find the Great Hall. Holly opted for picking up An Introduction to Human Anatomy and settled back on to her bed and continued reading from where she had left off yesterday. Giving her an escape to avoid the awkwardness of striking up conversation with nothing to say.

A groan emanated from the bed next to her.

"Why do we have to get up so early?" The curtain opened as a bleary-eyed Bulstrode poked her head out of them.

"It's not early," Davis said, from across the room.

"I don't know about you Davis, but quarter to seven is early in my eyes."

"Yes, well, some of us never had the luxury to lie around in bed all day, before." Parkinson huffed as she exited the bathroom. "And if you don't get a move on soon, you won't be ready to make it in time for breakfast."

"I have plenty of time."

Holly glanced up from her book and looked at Parkinson. Brown hair in a bob cut did nothing to soften the girl's hard face. Her short nose wrinkled in disgust as she passed them. Her uniform was pristine and looked to be far more expensive than the school robes Holly had purchased. Compared to Bulstrode, who had in fact now moved out of the bed, Parkinson was petite. The two girls stared at each other, neither willing to give an inch, Holly knew all too well the weird posturing that some children did in order to gain dominance over others. To establish that they were on top of the pecking order and everyone else was below them. She had witnessed Dudley doing it more times than she cared to count, to not recognise it for what it was. Holly didn't know if Parkinson wanted the top spot and she was making just one of many moves she would no doubt make to prove the point or if there was something else going on. Holly had little interest in the dormitory hierarchy. She wasn't a fool, though. Holly recognised the tension for what it was. She couldn't help but notice that Bulstrode turned away first, and that Parkinson moved out of the way of Greengrass as the other girl moved to the bathroom.

Parkinson fixed her gaze onto her.

"So tell me Potter, how does the daughter of a Light family make it into Slytherin?"

Holly blinked as she met the gaze of the other girl. There was no heat in the girl's voice, nothing but a curiosity that matched the glint in her brown eyes.

_Never Flinch _.__

____

____

_Never Fear _.__

____

____

She would not give satisfaction in admitting she didn't understand what Parkinson meant by Light family. There was a deeper meaning to those words than one would presume if the curious glances Davis and Bulstrode were giving her were anything to go by. Holly couldn't help but think it went deeper than what side of the war you aligned with. She wouldn't be unpleasant, but she would show care. Parkinson had been polite in her question. At least Holly hadn't been able to detect any malice in the question. She chose caution in her answer.

"The same way you made it into Slytherin, Parkinson," Holly responded, ensuring her features expressed nothing. "The Sorting Hat sorted me." There, let them speculate what that means.

Parkinson tilted her head. Puzzled look crossed her face, as if she hadn't expected that answer and was uncertain how she should respond, Holly didn't give her a chance. She closed her book and rose from the bed, dismissing Parkinson as the Dursleys had dismissed her, pretending that the girl wasn't there. Holly didn't have the time to waste with discussions about whether she belonged, or attempt to prove that she did. She had not belonged her entire life and didn't expect the Slytherin House to be any different from living with the Dursleys. She had no time to worry about proving herself to others. It wouldn't help her achieve her goal. It wouldn't help her heal her parents.

Holly headed to the door, making her escape from more queries, without appearing to flee the room. To her surprise, Greengrass had finished in the bathroom and followed behind her. Together, the two of them made their way down to the Common Room. As she reached the foot of the stairs, Holly could see a few older students waiting for them along with a few fellow first years. She spotted Blaise, who offered her a warm smile as he moved closer to where she and Greengrass were standing.

"Ah right, I will take the first lot up, I'm starving," an athletic-looking boy with sandy brown hair greeted.

"You're always hungry, Pucey." Another laughed.

"I'm a growing boy, I need to keep my strength up," Pucey said, flashing a devilish smile and eyes that glistened with amusement before turning to face them. "I'm Adrian Pucey if you would like to follow me I will take those of you that are here up to the Great Hall for breakfast."

The first years formed a line behind Pucey and followed him out of the Common Room.

"Did you both sleep well?" Blaise asked, his gaze fixed upon them, as he moved next to them. 

"I did, thank you." Holly nodded.

"Better than you, I am guessing," Greengrass smirked. "Are those bags around your eyes?"

Blaise grimaced. "You try sharing a dorm with Crabbe and Goyle. They both snore like mountain trolls."

"I think I will pass thanks."

"Then you will never know my pain," Blaise said with a dramatic sigh.

Greengrass rolled her eyes. "Dramatic much."

Holly watched the two of them snipe back and forth with each other. The teasing tone in both of their voices softened the prickly words shared between them. There was no malice behind the words, something she found both fascinating and odd. The Dursleys had always meant every word they threw her way.

"Excuse them," a voice next to her said. Holly glanced out the corner of her eye to see a tall thin boy with chestnut brown hair, who had stepped beside her. "They are usually like that."

"I will take your word for it," Holly said.

"Theodore Nott, I don't believe I introduced myself last night."

Holly glanced at the boy, Nott was a name she was familiar with. A name connected with Voldemort, and a family that claimed they only served him because they were under the Imperius Curse. It was an excuse that many had made from what she read in old news articles. She would need to show caution, but be polite as well. After all, she would spend the next seven years with these children.

"Holly Potter." Holly followed the formal introduction expected by those who belonged to the elite of the Wizarding World. She couldn't help but add, "but you already knew that."

Holly threw him a pointed look.

He shrugged, ignoring the look.

"Manners hurt no one."

"No, they don't."

Though she was pretty certain they hurt the Dursleys.

"I am surprised a Potter sorted into Slytherin."

Holly glanced up at him, but he wasn't looking at her. Instead, he focused on the route that Pucey was leading them through the dungeons. Quite a few people seemed surprised she sorted into Slytherin, and she needed to work out why. She knew her parents had been Gryffindor's. Was it a tradition for families to be sorted into the same House and she had broken decades of that tradition or was it something else?

"You aren't the first person to say that."

Holly chose her words carefully, not wanting to give more away than she should. Nott turned to look at her, their gazes meeting. She smoothed her features, ensuring her face was blank.

"No, I don't suppose I would be."

Holly could see the questions swimming in his eyes: _are you capable of being a Slytherin? Do you have what it takes to survive? ___

____

__

"I have never been one to worry about meeting others' expectations of me."

Holly held his gaze longer than was necessary. She refused to cower to the challenge in his eyes as she answered his unvoiced questions. Showing caution was one thing, but she had no intention of letting anyone think that she would make an easy target for them. Those days were gone, and the Dursleys couldn't make her life hell because she hadn't cowered properly to their son. 

Was this what her time in Hogwarts would be like? Dudley and his gang had always been direct, but then she couldn't say they had been intelligent enough to try underhand tactics. Unless it involved Dudley turning on the waterworks to get his own way. But so far her fellow first-year Slytherins seemed cautious yet curious. Testing the waters without coming out and saying whether they were going to be friends with her or whether they were going to ignore her. It was confusing, and not the type of behaviour she was used to. Nott fell silent, as Holly noted, had Blaise and Greengrass. She wasn't sure when they had stopped their bickering, but they did not hide the fact they had been listening to the two of them.

They continued their journey up through the dungeons. It didn't seem to take as long to get to the Great Hall from the Common Room as it had done the previous night, though she still struggled to memorise every turn they made. She would need more time to explore a little on her own to get a better lay of the land surrounding her new home. Pucey led them to the middle of the Slytherin table while he chatted to Nott, who had turned his attention towards the older boy. Holly could already see some older years already seated, eating and talking amongst themselves. They were the early risers of the House. Breakfast wasn't as extravagant as the feast had been, but the food was no less delicious. Holly helped herself to a slice of toast and a couple rashers of bacon before adding a 'pain au chocolat' to her plate. It wasn't long before the other students trickled in, and Holly kept a close eye on the Slytherins joining the table. A blonde boy, she recalled as Draco Malfoy from his Sorting, sat down next to Blaise.

"You could have waited for me," he grumbled.

"You were still preening yourself in the bathroom and I was hungry." There was indifference in Blaise's tone to the annoyance that was clear in Malfoy's.

Malfoy pressed his lips together thinly in irritation before pale blue eyes turned onto her.

"Draco Malfoy, pleased to meet you."

A courteous smile graced his lips. The irritation that had been there moments ago vanished.

"Holly Potter," she said, offering a small smile. She had formally introduced herself so many times she was feeling foolish, but Holly knew that she was sitting amongst pure-bloods, children that lived and breathed the etiquette when dealing with other witches and wizards. Umbridge had driven home the importance of people's words and actions amongst wizardkind and the dangers of blood feuds and other such things Holly had no interest in. These children were a part of the elite, belonging to families who helped make the laws, but more important than that, had been a part of the war, and not necessarily on the same side her parents had been. Holly knew that she couldn't hold it against them in such a way that it blinded her to them. At least until they proved they were a threat and that their parents had been true supporters of Voldemort.

"What classes are you looking forward to, Potter?" Malfoy asked, his gaze fixed on her as he poured himself a drink.

She blinked in surprise at the question, already noting the waiting glances of both her year mates and Pucey for her answer.

"I am looking forward to them all," she said, sipping her pumpkin juice. She hoped the action masked the hesitation in her voice.

"No particular favourite in mind then?"

"Learning magic as a collective is something I am looking forward to. As to a favourite subject, I can't say I am an expert in any area to form an actual opinion on them or even what to expect from them." And it was true, as much as she intended to focus on learning all she could about Healing, every branch of magic had caught her interest, and she was looking forward to exploring them all.

Pucey smiled at her slightly.

"Learning all magic is a suitable response, forming favourites now could lead you to overlook another area that is also relevant and useful."

Thankfully, she didn't have to take part in further conversation by a Professor in long black robes sweeping down upon them. Dark eyes swept across them all taking in their appearance and Holly got the distinct impression he was analysing each one of them. She knew that this was Professor Snape, their Head of House, and Holly couldn't say he looked friendly.

"Goyle! Straighten your tie. Crabbe! Tuck your collar in," he said, his voice as cold as ice. "I expect every one of you to ensure your appearance is pristine at all times. You are Slytherins not animals."

He gave them another warning look, before he started handing out their timetables without another word. Holly accepted hers with a polite 'thank you' garnering her an unreadable look before he hastened on. Holly glanced at the timetable in her hands. They had rather a full first day, with Magical Theory first thing, followed by a History of Magic. After lunch, they had Double Charms and at midnight, they would be in Astronomy studying the night sky.

Professor Snape turned to face them, speaking coldly.

"First-years, you are to remain for your orientation, once the bell rings. Professor Flamel knows that you will be late. I expect each of you to pay attention and ensure they do not bring shame to the Slytherin House."

As if his words were the signal, the castle bell rang loudly across the hall, and Professor McGonagall rose from her seat at the High Table and addressed the Great Hall.

"First years, please remain seated." As the other students rose from their seats, she added, "Sixth-year prefects please remain behind you're excused from your first lesson to show the first years to their dorms to collect the books required for their morning lessons, along with showing them to their first class."

The older students filled out of the Great Hall, presumably to gather their own belongings before heading to their first class of the day. Surveying the remaining children in the hall, it surprised Holly at how many first years there were. The previous night her nerves had taken over, and she hadn't paid attention to how many students were waiting alongside her to find their place in the school.

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, once again welcomes you all. I trust that you are all settling into your Houses," Professor McGonagall greeted. "And are ready to begin your magical journey."

With a wave of her hand, a leather-bound book in a deep red, the size of a dairy appeared in front of them with a pop and dropped to the table. Professor McGonagall waited for the noise to die down before she began.

"You're Hogwarts Welcome Pack, inside you will find a definitive manual on School ethics, rules and regulations. Your pack will show your records, with a personalised class and extra-curricular schedule, along with a detailed list of your year, house and school, rankings within the League. You will find a calendar complete with significant events and astronomical dates."

Holly broke the seal on her own pack and skimmed through the first page. It listed the rules and regulations of the school. The second page provided a list of their mandatory class, along with a list of extracurricular activities they could take part in.

Holly looked back towards Professor McGonagall as she continued talking to them.

"Hogwarts accepts the best and brightest, this year that is you. Hogwarts makes no mistakes, and each one of you has a unique opportunity, to study within the Castle walls. Not only for the curriculum the school offers but also the unique way in which we teach."

Whispers broke out over the statement, and McGonagall waited patiently for them to cease before continuing with her introduction.

"The School League will rank you based on your individual performance throughout the year, both with your classwork, practicals, and exam results. We will rank you amongst your Housemates, Year mates and collectively within the school," she continued, "Your ranking by the end of the second year will determine the subjects available to you moving forward into your third year. Every one of you has a responsibility to yourself to work towards improving your rank. Just as you can rise rank you can also lose your position should another student work hard and improve their own standing."

She gave them all a warning look as she spoke that was hard to ignore. Holly knew in her mind there would be consequences if they didn't work hard. She flipped through the pages that had each student from each of the years marked alongside their ranks, followed by the top twenty names of the school overall. She skimmed the first year's page, where for the moment each student's name listed alphabetically with no visible ranking next to their name. Umbridge had briefly touched upon the League within the school, and how it marked the progress of each student and the importance it held for what options would be available to them later on. An ingenious idea that Minister Gaunt had put into place to ensure that Hogwarts was producing the best of the best. Along with the reintroduction of subjects that the School hadn't in the last couple of decades.

"Hogwarts students attend eight classes during their first two years of schooling. Theory forms the foundation of your understanding of magical theory and is mandatory for the first two years. Your grade by the end of your second year will determine whether you proceed to the next level and join Spell Creation, if you achieve high grades."

A hushed silence filled the hall, nobody willing to speak.

"Astronomy is once a week. The rest of your classes are Charms, Defence Against the Dark Art, Herbology, History of Magic, Potions, Theory and Transfiguration."

Holly glanced up from her Welcome Pack to look at Professor McGonagall.

"There are many extracurricular activities and clubs you may join, however, they are a privilege, and if we feel they are detrimental towards your classes and work, then we will enforce our right to deny you access. Remember, your future is in your hands, only you can determine what you will achieve. But for now, you need to focus on your first year, which should be a much more pressing concern for you all."

Holly blinked in surprise.

The rest of McGonagall's introduction informed them about the extra-curricular activities that would be available to them, and that should they undertake any projects the Professors would be available for them provided it did not interfere with their class work.

Holly found her interest caught once or twice at the possibilities, but would need to find out more information. She couldn't allow her attention to wonder away too much from her primary goal. Now that she was finally at Hogwarts, she hoped that she could make more headway regarding reaching her goals, rather than just reading through textbooks.

"I can't believe we can't take Duelling until third year."

Malfoy protested loudly enough as they exited the Great Hall, that Holly could hear him several people behind as they followed behind their prefect.

"Provided you rank high enough in Defence, Charms and Transfiguration," Nott pointed out.

Malfoy threw him a pointed look, and said, "I am a Malfoy."

Holly could hear the weight in those words and knew it was far more than merely a statement. It meant something; it mattered. And while it was another name, she knew had connections to Voldemort; she knew that the Malfoy family had power and influence in the Wizarding World.

"I suppose we should be grateful that we can learn to duel in the third year, at the very least. A few years ago it was nothing more than an extracurricular activity with only a handful of positions in the club," Blaise said, dryly.

"The Minister is trying to ensure that Hogwarts students receive the education they deserve. They have banned a lot of subjects in the last century and a half. He is trying to build a better Wizarding Britain," Malfoy answered, puffing up his chest a little as the attention of the first years fixed on him.

Holly tilted her head slightly, keeping silent as she listened while she watched which path the Prefect was taking them down.

"And you know how?"

"My father is a supporter of Minister Gaunt's party and is a member of the Board of Governors for the school."

Blaise snorted. "Been listening at doors again, have you Malfoy?"

Malfoy's cheeks flushed and his eyes widened as he opened his mouth before promptly shutting it tightly. Blaise flashed a smirk at him as he ducked through the door to their Common Room and out of sight.

* * *

Hogwarts was nothing like Holly had expected once she could venture further into the castle. Her own imagination hadn't done it justice, as she had never dreamed that such a place could exist. As they dutifully followed the prefects to their first class, she felt as if her head was turning full circle at every moment. There was so much to see, so much to explore, Hogwarts was...magnificent. She supposed the word summed it up accurately enough, but even she wasn't sure it actually caught everything that Hogwarts seemed to be.

There were more staircases than she cared to count that seemed to move on their own accord. Narrow, rickety ones, along with sweeping and twisting ones. Students appeared to be here and there, heading in either direction like a flowing river as they went about their own class schedules. Holly was certain it would take her a lifetime to learn all the secrets of her new home.

The Magical Theory classroom was on the fourth floor on the east side of the castle, and it was a class they shared with the Ravenclaw's first years. The prefect that had been leading left them at the door, informing them that another prefect would lead them down to their second period after class.

She spotted Entwhistle and Sloper amongst the Ravenclaws as she took her seat and hid her surprise when Blaise and Greengrass joined her. Nobody had ever actively chosen to sit by her before. Moments after they had settled down, Professor Flamel entered the room. Holly knew what to expect from Flamel and hoped that he taught in the same manner that he had during summer school. He called their names with minimal fuss, before taking his place in front of his desk.

"What makes a great wizard or witch?"

The question caught the first years by surprise, but Professor Flamel seemed undeterred by their stunned silence. In fact, the wizard just continued to stare at them from the front of the room, never once blinking.

"Anyone?" he asked, glancing around the classroom for any sign that someone was going to answer. "How about you?" He pointed to the blonde-haired boy she had shared the boat with.

"How well they do something," he answered, tentatively.

"That could be said about everything, Mr Goldstein," Flamel smiled. "But it was a good attempt, but I can tell you it takes more than that to make a great wizard or witch."

The Professor nodded once before turning back to the entire class, "Anyone else willing to have a guess?"

Several hands slowly rose.

"Yes, Miss Patil?"

A Ravenclaw with dark black hair answered, "Talent." 

"No."

He pointed to the next student with a raised hand, "Mr Malfoy"

"Strength." There was a hint of arrogance in Malfoy's tone as he answered. As though there could be no other answer.

"Absolutely not," Flamel snapped. "We often confuse strength with power and greatness. But one does not have to be strong to be great. In fact, I have found it is usually the humblest of us that are the greatest."

The Professor stepped forward, down between the rows of first years, "Miss Greengrass."

"Eagerness."

"No," He said, his tone gentler. "Though a critical attribute and one we expect from all witches and wizards. Willingness to use magic is not the same as the ability to use magic."

Holly felt a tingling at the top of her spine. What would she say if he asked her? She drew in a quiet breath and let it out gradually, steadying herself.

"Miss Potter."

"Control."

The Professor met her eyes with his own pale blue ones.

"No," he sighed and moved to the front of the room. Holly stared at the wooden table before her. Professor Flamel stopped in front of the desk and crossed his arms. He looked around the room again.

"Many attributes make up a witch or wizard. But the most important quality of a witch or wizard is knowledge," he paused, and then looked at each of the students who had spoken. "Without it their strength is useless, you have nothing to be skilled at or talented in, despite your best intentions."

"But Professor, how can one be great if you don't have power? Surely in a duel the weaker of the two would always lose," Parkinson voiced.

"I won't deny that being powerful gives you an advantage over an opponent that is magically weaker than you, but if that opponent has more knowledge at using magic, I can guarantee that they will have the higher chance of winning."

Professor Flamel looked at all of them and chuckled, "I can see that you doubt my words. All of you have performed accidental magic at least on one occasion as you grew up. Accidental magic acts on your desires, strong desires but it isn't a conscious decision on your part to perform the magic, so while some of you may be powerful enough to perform an amazing display of accidental magic, right now you don't have the knowledge to do that same feat of magic consciously."

"But surely Professor, a witch or wizard with a darker registering colour for their magical core would mean they are a greater witch or wizard?" Davis asked.

Holly stiffened at the mention of magical cores, before forcing herself to relax. She hadn't forgotten about her first day in summer school and the colour her core had registered as. It wasn't something anybody was likely to forget, but her true colour was not something she wished to share with anyone else. For a moment, Professor Flamel's gaze met hers, before he returned his attention to Davis.

"Imagine two witches, Miss Davis, one has spent years studying, learning as much as she is able and continues to learn every day, her magical core however registers as Amber. The second witch, her magical core registers as Grey, she focused her attention on mastering a single spell, a spell she is exceptional at. Now if we were to measure them on core strength alone, then the second witch registers seven colours higher than the first," Flamel paused, his gaze moving across the classroom, ensuring he had all of their attention before continuing. "In a battle of strength, that second witch would last longer before she tired. However, the first witch, while magically weaker, has a vast more knowledge than her opponent and can easily use that knowledge to her advantage. Strength can be an advantage, but knowledge is power."

Flamel turned his attention to the rest of the class.

"Hogwarts has one of the largest and most comprehensive stores of knowledge in Wizarding Britain. During the years you spend here, that knowledge can be yours. Depending on you as an individual will determine on how much knowledge you glean. If you pay attention, listen to what your Professors tell you and make use of the resources here such as the extensive library you will excel. You will gain knowledge of the spells, the skill to cast a spell correctly, to manipulate it to your will consciously. To shape and mould it and control it, that is skill and those are the components that make a wizard or witch great."

"However," his tone darkened. "If you do not pay attention or take advantage of the centuries of knowledge gathered by your predecessors, you will shame only yourselves. The years ahead will not be easy."

Holly could see the warning look in his eyes.

"You need dedication and discipline if you are going to reach your full potential. Whether that potential is to be great depends on you."

The atmosphere in the room had changed to a new tension. The first years were so quiet that Holly could swear she could hear their hearts beating. Holly wasn't sure what she had actually been expecting from Magical Theory, but it definitely hadn't been this.

"Welcome all to Magical Theory. I am certain many of you are expecting this class to be a class that just involves discussions about different concepts of magic, and while there will be many debates in the days to come, there will be a practical element to this class."

A smile crossed his lips.

"It is my job to ensure you have a full understanding of the components to cast spells and use magic. While also forming the foundation of spell creation you will later need should you meet the passing criteria."

He waved his wand at the blackboard, and a large triangle appeared. He turned his attention back to them.

"I will not only be teaching you the theory of magic but also the techniques used to control magic, but also to help you hone your skills. We will touch on subjects such as Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Sacred Geometry, and so much more. Now, would you all turn to chapter one of your textbooks and we will begin?"

* * *

Magic was more complicated than simply waving a wand and saying a word.

There was structure, formula, knowledge, intent, will, visualisation and of course magic, Flamel had explained some during Summer School, but sitting in a class and learning the subjects properly was both exciting and amazing. Magic was instinctive, she had learned over the summer that it came to her call, but directing where it went after took more than just pointing her wand. Which proved Professor Flamel's point even more to her. She needed the knowledge of the spells to do more than blow things up.

Holly had learnt that early on when she had attempted her first spell, but as the Slytherin first years walked out of Magical Theory, she couldn't help but wonder how many of her classmates had realised that. Had they, who had grown up surrounded by magic rather than fearing it, understood the principles that their Professor had been trying to ingrain into them or had they taken for granted the ability to wield magic and expected it to come naturally to them.

From the mutterings and groaning of a few of them, she couldn't help but think that some of them had, in fact, thought that.

Willingness to use magic is not the same as the ability to use it.

"Well, that was more interesting than I thought it was going to be."

Greengrass muttered next to her. A prefect had been waiting for them the moment the bell rang, and had signalled for them to follow her, as she led them to their next lesson: History of Magic.

"I have to say he wasn't what I was expecting." Blaise nodded.

Greengrass snorted.

"What precisely were you expecting, Blaise?"

"The wizard is over six hundred years old, Daphne, and he looks younger than the Headmaster."

Holly paused, tilting her head as she glanced at Blaise.

"He is over six hundred years old?"

If she were to hazard a guess at how old he was, she wouldn't have said 600, she wouldn't have said a hundred. Blaise turned towards her, nodding his head.

"He is. He was born in the early 14th century, noted on record as being an incredibly talented wizard, who delved into Alchemy. As a result, he is the maker of the Philosopher's Stone. The only Philosopher Stone in existence."

Holly frowned, she hadn't come across Flamel's name in any of the books she had read over the Summer, nor had she read anything about the Philosopher Stone.

"Philosopher Stone?"

"A magical stone that can turn any metal into gold," Greengrass supplied. "Along with creating the substance the elixir of life, which grants the drinker immortality, along with other rejuvenation properties."

Holly glanced at Greengrass, keeping her face smooth of emotions, as a thrill of excitement shot through her. Her mind racing at the information she had just gleamed. Could it be that easy? Could the Stone heal? Surely if it granted immortality, then it had to have properties that impacted one's health overall. After all, Flamel appeared to be in good health. It was something she would have to look into further and even speak to Professor Flamel when she had the chance. She had no interest in immortality herself, had no interest to have untold wealth either, but if there was even a slim chance the stone could help heal her parents, then Holly had to look into it.

History of Magic, Holly quickly found, was a lesson which turned out to be far more disappointing than it should have been. The only lesson in the school that a ghost taught. An interesting notion except he had such a monotone voice that the only time it seemed to change was when he called her name and he turned to stare at her before he hurried with the next name, Holly paid enough attention to make a note of the topic he was discussing in order to look it up in her own time before promptly getting out An Introduction to Human Anatomy and continued reading from where she left off earlier.

* * *

Draco glanced towards Potter where she was sitting next to Blaise across the table. From the way she had her nose pressed in a book, though, Draco didn't think she was engaging in any of the surrounding conversations. He had no idea what she was reading from where he was sitting, but it was something that was holding her attention enough to ignore others around her.

He took a careful bite of his sandwich, ensuring that no crumbs sullied his school robes, his thought turning as he chewed. His head was hurting again. Magic rattled around him. His father had taught him to shield against the everyday magic that he would find in Hogwarts, but he wasn't strong enough yet to not feel Potter's magic. He glanced towards her the third time. Her magic was like she was the sun, pulling at him, and he was sinking into her orbit and he couldn't help but look. Not stare, he was a Malfoy after all, but look. 

He couldn't believe that the girl who he had seen on the train journey was Holly Potter, and the Sorting Hat had placed her in Slytherin. It made it easier to get to know her since she was in the same House as him, and more difficult because she was a Potter. A girl who, while may not be the proclaimed Saviour of the Wizarding World, was the third part of the equation to what happened that night. Draco found it odd that the Boy-Who-Lived didn't emanate as much magic as Holly Potter did. It should be the other way round, Potter should be the ordinary one of the two. And yet there was something, something that rattled inside of him, and his own magic curled tighter around him. Not Draco was to guess it would do much to protect him from the whirlwind that seemed to surround Potter.

And he wasn't the only one noticing.

Not from the side glance a few of the other Slytherins were giving. Not all, but enough. It surprised him that the rest of the school weren't noticing, but then Slytherins were the most intelligent, regardless of what others thought of them. He would need to write to his father, to inform him of what he had discovered. He would write to his mother as well, because she would know what to do on approaching Potter. Until then, he would observe, and see if he was really feeling that much power from Potter.

* * *

It surprised Holly to see Malfoy walking beside her to Charms after lunch, rather than Blaise and Greengrass. Not that she had grown used to Blaise or Greengrass choosing to walk next to her either. Her fellow Slytherin first years were acting rather oddly. Not Dudley odd, not the Dursleys level of odd, but so far it seemed to split evenly down the middle of those who were actively choosing to talk to her, and those who didn't, and the ones that didn't, didn't ignore her in the same away the children from her primary school did either. More that they were holding back. Watching and waiting to see what was to happen. Holly found the entire thing strange, just as she found Malfoy and the other students watching her over lunch oddly. She may have spent the time reading, but she wasn't oblivious to the curious eyes, she felt as though she had been a bug under a microscope. She said nothing, didn't react in any way that could they could against her. Dudley and his friends had done far worse than stare at her after all.

"Are you looking forward to Charms, Potter?" Malfoy asked, his tone civil but inquisitive.

Holly glanced at the boy. He seemed determined to be friendly to her, if his half smile was anything to go by. Open hostility was something Holly was used to, something she had in part expected. This friendly approach was not something she was used to, and she felt out of her depth. But there was no reason not to answer his question.

"I am looking forward to Charms," she answered, her lips turning up. "Charms does sound rather fascinating. Are you looking forward to Charms?"

Malfoy nodded, his blue eyes shining, as though he had just triumphed. Holly pushed back the frown that wanted to crease her brow and kept her face as blank as she could manage it.

"Professor Flitwick is a Charms Master, and an accomplished duellist. It will be interesting to learn from him."

It wasn't a yes or a no, Holly noted. It was a respectful answer that gave an insight into the way Malfoy thought, whether he realised it or not, Holly couldn't say. Holly stored that nugget of information away for her to think about later, as they entered the Charms classroom. Unlike Theory and History which had rows of desks where two or three students could sit at a time, Charms had two rows of longer benches that surrounded the classroom. Allowing students to sit in clusters. Malfoy herded her towards the second row on the left-hand side of the classroom where Blaise, Greengrass and Nott already sat and she found herself seated between Nott and Malfoy.

Professor Flitwick arrived moments after they did, saving her from any further attempts at conversation. He was small and chipper and began roll calling after hefted himself onto a large stack of books, that appeared unbalanced in Holly's opinion, but the Professor seemed to have the art of standing on them to an art.

The professor spent the first half of the lesson discussing the theory of Charm work. Holly was quick to note Will and Visualisation were key elements along with correct wand movements and spell pronunciation for this branch of magic. The second half of the lesson, Professor had them start on the 'Repairing Charm', using various broken objects that Flitwick seemed to keep for the lesson.

In his words. "Accidents happen, so it is essential to know how to mend our errors,"

Certain materials were easier than others Holly found, and even though she had repaired a broken glass jar, cracks had still been visible. Despite the visible cracks, Holly couldn't stop herself from feeling the jolt of excitement that she had accomplished the repair. It wasn't perfect, but the jar had repaired itself and that was an achievement in her eyes, as it was their first lesson of the day where they could use magic.

* * *

  


It was a far more subdued group of first years that entered the Slytherin common room after Charms. The excitement and energy that had driven them through the day had dwindled into a tiredness that came with a full day of learning and concentration. Even the students whose parents had afforded private tutors were used to a structured day of learning, Hogwarts was different. Holly was certain it would take them a few days to settle into the pace of the school and the expectations set on them. They cleaned up using the free time; they had before dinner and commandeered two large tables close and sat down. Holly shared a table with Blaise, Greengrass, Nott and Malfoy.

Holly tried to sit on the outskirts, not apart but not separate from them either. She had fallen through the social cracks and avoided interactions with others when she could, Holly wasn't stupid enough to alienate herself from her housemates. At least not yet.

It would be noticeable if she did. But it seemed her housemates had other ideas and weren't prepared to let her slip through the social cracks. Rather than choosing to make a start on their homework, they settled for a game of Exploding Snap. Holly found that one of the ways to play was like the muggle game, except the cards spontaneously exploded during the game. When you matched a pair, you had to hit the card with the tip of your wand, not only winning a point but also preventing the matched pair from exploding, which required quick reflexes.

It was a fun game. Holly couldn't help but join in with the others as they teased and laughed at each other's mishaps. Especially when Malfoy received singed eyebrows because he wasn't quick enough. The other boy seemed to take great pride in his appearance, and it wasn't until one of the older students finally put them right again that he stopped pouting.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N: 2020 was a challenging year for us all, and while 2021 has started, from the start of it, it is looking to be equally challenging. We are only nine days into the New Year and already a lot has happened, a lot is still happening. Remember to be kind to yourself, give yourself time away from social media, or watching the news if at any point it becomes too much for you. Remember to give yourself a chance to destress anyway that destresses you. Look after yourself, ease up on the pressure you put on yourselves. Life isn't normal at the moment for a lot of us, and could quite possibly not be normal for a while longer. Don't push yourself to breaking point.
> 
> Stay safe.


End file.
